> **CONTENTS**
>
> PREFACE
>
> CAIUS JULIUS CAESAR.
>
> D. OCTAVIUS CAESAR AUGUSTUS.
>
> TIBERIUS NERO CAESAR.
>
> CAIUS CAESAR CALIGULA.
>
> TIBERIUS CLAUDIUS DRUSUS CAESAR.
>
> NERO CLAUDIUS CAESAR.
>
> SERGIUS SULPICIUS GALBA.
>
> A. SALVIUS OTHO.
>
> AULUS VITELLIUS.
>
> T. FLAVIUS VESPASIANUS AUGUSTUS.
>
> TITUS FLAVIUS VESPASIANUS AUGUSTUS.
>
> TITUS FLAVIUS DOMITIANUS.
>
> LIVES OF EMINENT GRAMMARIANS
>
> LIVES OF EMINENT RHETORICIANS.
>
> LIVES OF THE POETS.
>
>       THE LIFE OF TERENCE.
>
>       THE LIFE OF JUVENAL.
>
>       THE LIFE OF PERSIUS.
>

>       THE LIFE OF HORACE.  
>
>       THE LIFE OF PLINY.  
>
> FOOTNOTES  
>
> INDEX

1)

# THE TWELVE CAESARS.

## CAIUS JULIUS CASAR.

I. Julius Caesar, the Divine, lost his father when he was sixteen years old; and the following year, being nominated to the office of high priest of Jupiter, he divorced Cossutia, who was very wealthy—although her family belonged only to the equestrian order—and to whom he had been betrothed as a boy. He then married (2) Cornelia, the daughter of Cinna, who had been consul four times; and soon afterwards they had a daughter named Julia. He resisted every attempt by the dictator Sulla to force him to divorce Cornelia, and paid the price by being stripped of his priestly office, his wife’s dowry, and his inheritance. Identified with the opposing party, he was forced to leave Rome. He changed his hiding place nearly every night, despite suffering from a quartan ague, and at last secured his freedom by bribing the officers who had tracked him down. He eventually obtained a pardon through the intercession of the Vestal Virgins, and his close relatives Mamercus Aemilius and Aurelius Cotta. It is said that when Sulla, finally worn down by the pleas of his closest friends—men of distinguished rank—gave in and granted the pardon, he exclaimed, either by divine inspiration or shrewd insight: “Your request is granted, and you may take him back among you; but know,” he added, “that this man, whose safety you care about so much, will, one day, be the ruin of the party of the nobles, which you defend alongside me; for in this single Caesar you will find many a Marius.”

II. His first military campaign was served in Asia, on the staff of the praetor M. Thermus; and when he was sent to Bithynia (9) to bring back a fleet, he lingered so long at the court of Nicomedes that rumors arose of a scandalous relationship between him and the king. These rumors gained further credence when he hurriedly returned to Bithynia, claiming it was to recover a debt owed to a freedman, his client. Nevertheless, the rest of his service in the east improved his reputation, and (3) when Mitylene (10) was stormed, Thermus awarded him the civic crown. (11)

III. He also served in Cilicia (12), under Servilius Isauricus, but only for a short time; because, on learning of Sulla’s death, he hurried back to Rome, expecting new upheaval stirred up by Marcus Lepidus. However, distrusting Lepidus’s abilities, and finding the times less favorable for such a project than he had anticipated, he gave up any plans of joining Lepidus, even though very tempting offers were made to him.

IV. Soon after the civil discord was settled, he brought a charge of extortion against Cornelius Dolabella, a man of consular rank who had recently celebrated a triumph. Upon Dolabella’s acquittal, Caesar decided to retire to Rhodes (13), both to avoid the public hostility (4) that he had incurred, and to quietly continue his studies under Apollonius, the son of Molon, who was then the most famous teacher of rhetoric. On the way there, in winter, he was captured by pirates near the island of Pharmacusa (14), and held by them, full of indignation, for nearly forty days; his only attendants were a physician and two chamberlains, as he had sent his other servants and friends to raise the ransom (15). After fifty talents were paid, he was released on the coast, at which point he quickly gathered some ships (16), put out to sea, and captured the pirates, exacting the punishment he had often half-jokingly promised them. At that time, Mithridates was ravaging nearby districts, and, on Caesar’s arrival at Rhodes, not wanting to be inactive while Rome’s allies were threatened, he crossed into Asia, gathered some auxiliary forces, drove out the king’s governor, and kept wavering cities loyal, preventing their revolt.

V. Upon returning to Rome, the people elected him military tribune—the first public honor he received by popular vote. He earnestly aided those trying to restore the tribunes’ authority, which had been greatly reduced during Sulla’s rule. At his suggestion, Plotius introduced a law to recall Lucius Cinna, his wife’s brother, and others who, having sided with Lepidus during the disturbances, had fled to Sertorius (17) after Lepidus’s death; Caesar supported this law with a speech.

VI. During his quaestorship, he delivered funeral orations from the rostra, as was customary, in praise of his aunt (5) Julia and his wife Cornelia. In his panegyric for his aunt, he included this account of her and his father’s genealogy, on both sides: “My aunt Julia descends through her mother from a royal line, and through her father from the Immortal Gods. For the Marcii Reges (18), her mother’s family, trace their ancestry from Ancus Marcius; and the Julii, her father’s, from Venus—of which family we are a branch. Thus, in our descent, we combine the sacred majesty of kings, the greatest among men, and the divine majesty of the gods, to whom even kings are subject.” He then married Pompeia, the daughter of Quintus Pompeius and granddaughter of Lucius Sulla, to replace Cornelia. However, he later divorced Pompeia, suspecting her of an affair with Publius Clodius. It was widely rumored that Clodius had gained access to her while dressed as a woman, during the celebration of a religious festival (19), prompting the senate to open an investigation into the desecration of sacred rites.

VII. Farther Spain (20) was assigned to him as quaestor. While traveling through the province by order of the praetor to administer justice, he reached Gades and saw a statue of Alexander the Great in the temple of Hercules. He sighed deeply, feeling dissatisfied with his idle life, for having accomplished nothing noteworthy by the age (21) when Alexander had already conquered the world. He immediately requested a discharge so he could seize the first opportunity in Rome to begin a grander career. That night, he dreamt he lay with his own mother; but the interpreters reassured him by explaining that it meant he was destined for universal rule, since (6) the mother he saw in his dream symbolized the earth, the common mother of all mankind.

VIII. He therefore left the province before his term was up, and went to the Latin colonies, which at the time were vigorously pushing for Roman citizenship. He would have incited them to some bold action, had not the consuls, to prevent unrest, kept for some time the legions that had been raised for service in Cilicia. But this did not keep him from making later, even bolder moves within the city itself.

IX. Only a few days before entering the office of aedile, he was suspected of conspiring with Marcus Crassus, a man of consular rank; along with Publius Sulla and Lucius Autronius, who, after being elected consuls, were convicted of bribery. Their plan was to attack the senate at the start of the new year and kill as many senators as necessary, after which Crassus would become dictator and appoint Caesar as his master of the horse (22). Once they had shaped the state as they wished, the consulship would be restored to Sulla and Autronius. Tanusius Geminus (23) mentions this plot in his history, as does Marcus Bibulus in his edicts (24), and Curio the elder in his speeches (25). Cicero seems to allude to it too in a letter to Axius, where he says that Caesar (7), in his consulship, secured for himself the arbitrary power (26) he had sought as aedile. Tanusius notes that Crassus, out of fear or regret, did not appear on the day chosen for the senate massacre, so Caesar did not give the signal they had agreed upon. Curio says the signal was for Caesar to shake his toga from his shoulder. The same Curio and M. Actorius Naso report that Caesar was involved in another conspiracy with the younger Cneius Piso; when there were suspicions of trouble brewing in the city, Piso was given the province of Spain out of the regular order (27). The two had supposedly agreed that Piso would lead a revolt in the provinces, while Caesar attempted an insurrection in Rome, using the Lambrani and the tribes beyond the Po. Both parts of the plan fell apart due to the death of Piso.

X. As aedile, he not only embellished the Comitium and the rest of the Forum (28), with its adjoining halls (29), but also adorned the Capitol with temporary arcades, set up to display some of the abundant collections (8) he had gathered for the amusement of the people (30). He entertained the public with wild beast hunts and games, both alone and with his colleague. For this, he received all the credit for their shared expenses, to such an extent that his colleague, Marcus Bibulus, remarked that he was treated like Pollux; for as the temple (31) in the Forum, dedicated to the twin brothers, is called only Castor, so their shared generosity was attributed solely to Caesar. To all the other public shows, Caesar added a gladiator fight, though with fewer pairs than he had anticipated. He had gathered so many from all over that his enemies became alarmed, and a decree was passed to limit the number of gladiators any one person could keep at Rome.

XI. Having thus won popular support, he used his influence with some of the tribunes to try to have Egypt assigned to him as a province by popular vote. The supposed justification for this extraordinary appointment was that the Alexandrians had expelled their king (32), whom the senate had honored as an ally and friend of Rome. This act was widely resented; yet so much opposition came from the party of the nobles that Caesar failed to carry his proposal. Therefore, determined to weaken their influence by any means, he restored the trophies erected for Caius Marius’s victories over Jugurtha, the Cimbri, and the Teutoni, which had been destroyed by Sulla. When judging murder cases, he always treated as assassins those who, during the proscription, had been rewarded with money from the treasury for the heads of Roman citizens, even though the Cornelian laws specifically excluded them from prosecution.

XII. He also procured, through a third party, an indictment (9) for treason against Caius Rabirius, who had notably helped the senate crush Lucius Saturninus, the seditious tribune, a few years before; and when Caesar was drawn by lot as a judge in the case, he condemned Rabirius with such hostility that on appeal to the people, nothing helped the accused more than the unusual bitterness of his judge.

XIII. Giving up hope of getting Egypt as his province, he ran for the office of chief pontiff, resorting to extravagant bribery. Considering the huge debts he had taken on, he is reported to have said to his mother, as she kissed him goodbye before he left in the morning for the assembly, “I will never return home unless I am elected pontiff.” In the end, he left behind two of the most powerful rivals, who far surpassed him in age and rank, so thoroughly that he had more votes in their own tribes than both of them together received in all the other tribes.

XIV. After he was chosen praetor, the conspiracy of Catiline was discovered; and while every other member of the senate voted for inflicting capital punishment on the accomplices in that crime, he alone proposed that the delinquents should be distributed for safe custody among the towns of Italy, their property being confiscated. He even struck such terror into those who were advocates for greater severity, by representing to them what universal odium would be attached to their memories by the Roman people, that Decius Silanus, consul elect, did not hesitate to qualify his proposal, it not being very honourable to change it, by a lenient interpretation; as if it had been understood in a harsher sense than he intended, and Caesar would certainly have carried his point, having brought over to his side a great number of the senators, among whom was Cicero, the consul’s brother, had not a speech by Marcus Cato infused new vigour into the resolutions of the senate. He persisted, however, in obstructing the measure, until a body of the Roman knights, who stood under arms as a guard, threatened him with instant death, if he continued his determined opposition. They even thrust at him with their drawn swords, so that those who sat next him moved away; and a few friends, with no small difficulty, protected him, by throwing their arms round him, and covering him with their togas. At last, deterred by this violence, he not only gave way, but absented himself from the senate-house during the remainder of that year.

XV. Upon the first day of his praetorship, he summoned Quintus Catulus to render an account to the people respecting the repairs of the Capitol; proposing a decree for transferring the office of curator to another person. But being unable to withstand the strong opposition made by the aristocratical party, whom he perceived quitting, in great numbers, their attendance upon the new consuls, and fully resolved to resist his proposal, he dropped the design.

XVI. He afterwards approved himself a most resolute supporter of Caecilius Metullus, tribune of the people, who, in spite of all opposition from his colleagues, had proposed some laws of a violent tendency, until they were both dismissed from office by a vote of the senate. He ventured, notwithstanding, to retain his post and continue in the administration of justice; but finding that preparations were made to obstruct him by force of arms, he dismissed the lictors, threw off his gown, and betook himself privately to his own house, with the resolution of being quiet, in a time so unfavourable to his interests. He likewise pacified the mob, which two days afterwards flocked about him, and in a riotous manner made a voluntary tender of their assistance in the vindication of his honour. This happening contrary to expectation, the senate, who met in haste, on account of the tumult, gave him their thanks by some of the leading members of the house, and sending for him, after high commendation of his conduct, cancelled their former vote, and restored him to his office.

XVII. But he soon got into fresh trouble, being named amongst the accomplices of Catiline, both before Novius Niger the quaestor, by Lucius Vettius the informer, and in the senate by Quintus Curius; to whom a reward had been voted, for having first discovered the designs of the conspirators. Curius affirmed that he had received his information from Catiline. Vettius even engaged to produce in evidence against him his own hand-writing, given to Catiline. Caesar, feeling that this treatment was not to be borne, appealed to Cicero himself, whether he had not voluntarily made a discovery to him of some particulars of the conspiracy; and so baulked Curius of his expected reward. He, therefore, obliged Vettius to give pledges for his behaviour, seized his goods, and after heavily fining him, and seeing him almost torn in pieces before the rostra, threw him into prison; to which he likewise sent Novius the quaestor, for having presumed to take an information against a magistrate of superior authority.

XVIII. At the expiration of his praetorship he obtained by lot the Farther-Spain, and pacified his creditors, who were for detaining him, by finding sureties for his debts. Contrary, however, to both law and custom, he took his departure before the usual equipage and outfit were prepared. It is uncertain whether this precipitancy arose from the apprehension of an impeachment, with which he was threatened on the expiration of his former office, or from his anxiety to lose no time in relieving the allies, who implored him to come to their aid. He had no sooner established tranquillity in the province, than, without waiting for the arrival of his successor, he returned to Rome, with equal haste, to sue for a triumph and the consulship. The day of election, however, being already fixed by proclamation, he could not legally be admitted a candidate, unless he entered the city as a private person. On this emergency he solicited a suspension of the laws in his favour; but such an indulgence being strongly opposed, he found himself under the necessity of abandoning all thoughts of a triumph, lest he should be disappointed of the consulship.

XIX. Of the two other competitors for the consulship, Lucius Luceius and Marcus Bibulus, he joined with the former, upon condition that Luceius, being a man of less interest but greater affluence, should promise money to the electors, in their joint names. Upon which the party of the nobles, dreading how far he might carry matters in that high office, with a colleague disposed to concur in and second his measures, advised Bibulus to promise the voters as much as the other; and most of them contributed towards the expense, Cato himself admitting that bribery; under such circumstances, was for the public good. He was accordingly elected consul jointly with Bibulus. Actuated still by the same motives, the prevailing party took care to assign provinces of small importance to the new consuls, such as the care of the woods and roads. Caesar, incensed at this indignity, endeavoured by the most assiduous and flattering attentions to gain to his side Cneius Pompey, at that time dissatisfied with the senate for the backwardness they shewed to confirm his acts, after his victories over Mithridates. He likewise brought about a reconciliation between Pompey and Marcus Crassus, who had been at variance from the time of their joint consulship, in which office they were continually clashing; and he entered into an agreement with both, that nothing should be transacted in the government, which was displeasing to any of the three.

XX. Having entered upon his office, he introduced a new regulation, that the daily acts both of the senate and people should be committed to writing, and published. He also revived an old custom, that an officer should precede him, and his lictors follow him, on the alternate months when the fasces were not carried before him. Upon preferring a bill to the people for the division of some public lands, he was opposed by his colleague, whom he violently drove out of the forum. Next day the insulted consul made a complaint in the senate of this treatment; but such was the consternation, that no one having the courage to bring the matter forward or move a censure, which had been often done under outrages of less importance, he was so much dispirited, that until the expiration of his office he never stirred from home, and did nothing but issue edicts to obstruct his colleague’s proceedings. From that time, therefore, Caesar had the sole management of public affairs; insomuch that some wags, when they signed any instrument as witnesses, did not add “in the consulship of Caesar and Bibulus,” but, “of Julius and Caesar;” putting the same person down twice, under his name and surname. The following verses likewise were currently repeated on this occasion:

> Non Bibulo quidquam nuper, sed Caesare factum est;  
> Nam Bibulo fieri consule nil memini.

Nothing was done in Bibulus’s year:  
No; Caesar only then was consul here.

The land of Stellas, consecrated by our ancestors to the gods, with some other lands in Campania left subject to tribute, for the support of the expenses of the government, he divided, but not by lot, among upwards of twenty thousand freemen, who had each of them three or more children. He eased the publicans, upon their petition, of a third part of the sum which they had engaged to pay into the public treasury; and openly admonished them not to bid so extravagantly upon the next occasion. He made various profuse grants to meet the wishes of others, no one opposing him; or if any such attempt was made, it was soon suppressed. Marcus Cato, who interrupted him in his proceedings, he ordered to be dragged out of the senate-house by a lictor, and carried to prison. Lucius Lucullus, likewise, for opposing him with some warmth, he so terrified with the apprehension of being criminated, that, to deprecate the consul’s resentment, he fell on his knees. And upon Cicero’s lamenting in some trial the miserable condition of the times, he the very same day, by nine o’clock, transferred his enemy, Publius Clodius, from a patrician to a plebeian family; a change which he had long solicited in vain. At last, effectually to intimidate all those of the opposite party, he by great rewards prevailed upon Vettius to declare, that he had been solicited by certain persons to assassinate Pompey; and when he was brought before the rostra to name those who had been concerted between them, after naming one or two to no purpose, not without great suspicion of subornation, Caesar, despairing of success in this rash stratagem, is supposed to have taken off his informer by poison.

XXI. About the same time he married Calpurnia, the daughter of Lucius Piso, who was to succeed him in the consulship, and gave his own daughter Julia to Cneius Pompey; rejecting Servilius Caepio, to whom she had been contracted, and by whose means chiefly he had but a little before baffled Bibulus. After this new alliance, he began, upon any debates in the senate, to ask Pompey’s opinion first, whereas he used before to give that distinction to Marcus Crassus; and it was the usual practice for the consul to observe throughout the year the method of consulting the senate which he had adopted on the calends (the first) of January.

XXII. Being, therefore, now supported by the interest of his father-in-law and son-in-law, of all the provinces he made choice of Gaul, as most likely to furnish him with matter and occasion for triumphs. At first indeed he received only Cisalpine-Gaul, with the addition of Illyricum, by a decree proposed by Vatinius to the people; but soon afterwards obtained from the senate Gallia-Comata also, the senators being apprehensive, that if they should refuse it him, that province, also, would be granted him by the people. Elated now with his success, he could not refrain from boasting, a few days afterwards, in a full senate-house, that he had, in spite of his enemies, and to their great mortification, obtained all he desired, and that for the future he would make them, to their shame, submissive to his pleasure. One of the senators observing, sarcastically: “That will not be very easy for a woman to do,” he jocosely replied, “Semiramis formerly reigned in Assyria, and the Amazons possessed great part of Asia.”

XXIII. When the term of his consulship had expired, upon a motion being made in the senate by Caius Memmius and Lucius Domitius, the praetors, respecting the transactions of the year past, he offered to refer himself to the house; but they declining the business, after three days spent in vain altercation, he set out for his province. Immediately, however, his quaestor was charged with several misdemeanors, for the purpose of implicating Caesar himself. Indeed, an accusation was soon after preferred against him by Lucius Antistius, tribune of the people; but by making an appeal to the tribune’s colleagues, he succeeded in having the prosecution suspended during his absence in the service of the state. To secure himself, therefore, for the time to come, he was particularly careful to secure the good-will of the magistrates at the annual elections, assisting none of the candidates with his interest, nor suffering any persons to be advanced to any office, who would not positively undertake to defend him in his absence for which purpose he made no scruple to require of some of them an oath, and even a written obligation.

XXIV. But when Lucius Domitius became a candidate for the consulship, and openly threatened that, upon his being elected consul, he would effect that which he could not accomplish when he was praetor, and divest him of the command of the armies, he sent for Crassus and Pompey to Lucca, a city in his province, and pressed them, for the purpose of disappointing Domitius, to sue again for the consulship, and to continue him in his command for five years longer; with both which requisitions they complied. Presumptuous now from his success, he added, at his own private charge, more legions to those which he had received from the republic; among the former of which was one levied in Transalpine Gaul, and called by a Gallic name, Alauda, which he trained and armed in the Roman fashion, and afterwards conferred on it the freedom of the city. From this period he declined no occasion of war, however unjust and dangerous; attacking, without any provocation, as well the allies of Rome as the barbarous nations which were its enemies: insomuch, that the senate passed a decree for sending commissioners to examine into the condition of Gaul; and some members even proposed that he should be delivered up to the enemy. But so great had been the success of his enterprises, that he had the honour of obtaining more days of supplication, and those more frequently, than had ever before been decreed to any commander.

XXV. During nine years in which he held the government of the province, his achievements were as follows: he reduced all Gaul, bounded by the Pyrenean forest, the Alps, mount Gebenna, and the two rivers, the Rhine and the Rhone, and being about three thousand two hundred miles in compass, into the form of a province, excepting only the nations in alliance with the republic, and such as had merited his favour; imposing upon this new acquisition an annual tribute of forty millions of sesterces. He was the first of the Romans who, crossing the Rhine by a bridge, attacked the Germanic tribes inhabiting the country beyond that river, whom he defeated in several engagements. He also invaded the Britons, a people formerly unknown, and having vanquished them, exacted from them contributions and hostages. Amidst such a series of successes, he experienced thrice only any signal disaster; once in Britain, when his fleet was nearly wrecked in a storm; in Gaul, at Gergovia, where one of his legions was put to the rout; and in the territory of the Germans, his lieutenants Titurius and Aurunculeius were cut off by an ambuscade.

XXVI. During this period he lost his mother, whose death was followed by that of his daughter, and, not long afterwards, of his granddaughter. Meanwhile, the republic being in consternation at the murder of Publius Clodius, and the senate passing a vote that only one consul, namely, Cneius Pompeius, should be chosen for the ensuing year, he prevailed with the tribunes of the people, who intended joining him in nomination with Pompey, to propose to the people a bill, enabling him, though absent, to become a candidate for his second consulship, when the term of his command should be near expiring, that he might not be obliged on that account to quit his province too soon, and before the conclusion of the war. Having attained this object, carrying his views still higher, and animated with the hopes of success, he omitted no opportunity of gaining universal favour, by acts of liberality and kindness to individuals, both in public and private. With money raised from the spoils of the war, he began to construct a new forum, the ground-plot of which cost him above a hundred millions of sesterces. He promised the people a public entertainment of gladiators, and a feast in memory of his daughter, such as no one before him had ever given. The more to raise their expectations on this occasion, although he had agreed with victuallers of all denominations for his feast, he made yet farther preparations in private houses. He issued an order, that the most celebrated gladiators, if at any time during the combat they incurred the displeasure of the public, should be immediately carried off by force, and reserved for some future occasion. Young gladiators he trained up, not in the school, and by the masters, of defence, but in the houses of Roman knights, and even senators, skilled in the use of arms, earnestly requesting them, as appears from his letters, to undertake the discipline of those novitiates, and to give them the word during their exercises. He doubled the pay of the legions in perpetuity; allowing them likewise corn, when it was in plenty, without any restriction; and sometimes distributing to every soldier in his army a slave, and a portion of land.

XXVII. To maintain his alliance and good understanding with Pompey, he offered him in marriage his sister’s grand-daughter Octavia, who had been married to Caius Marcellus; and requested for himself his daughter, lately contracted to Faustus Sylla. Every person about him, and a great part likewise of the senate, he secured by loans of money at low interest, or none at all; and to all others who came to wait upon him, either by invitation or of their own accord, he made liberal presents; not neglecting even the freed-men and slaves, who were favourites with their masters and patrons. He offered also singular and ready aid to all who were under prosecution, or in debt, and to prodigal youths; excluding from his bounty those only who were so deeply plunged in guilt, poverty, or luxury, that it was impossible effectually to relieve them. These, he openly declared, could derive no benefit from any other means than a civil war.

XXVIII. He endeavoured with equal assiduity to engage in his interest princes and provinces in every part of the world; presenting some with thousands of captives, and sending to others the assistance of troops, at whatever time and place they desired, without any authority from either the senate or people of Rome. He likewise embellished with magnificent public buildings the most powerful cities not only of Italy, Gaul, and Spain, but of Greece and Asia; until all people being now astonished, and speculating on the obvious tendency of these proceedings, Claudius Marcellus, the consul, declaring first by proclamation, that he intended to propose a measure of the utmost importance to the state, made a motion in the senate that some person should be appointed to succeed Caesar in his province, before the term of his command was expired; because the war being brought to a conclusion, peace was restored, and the victorious army ought to be disbanded. He further moved, that Caesar being absent, his claims to be a candidate at the next election of consuls should not be admitted, as Pompey himself had afterwards abrogated that privilege by a decree of the people. The fact was, that Pompey, in his law relating to the choice of chief magistrates, had forgot to except Caesar, in the article in which he declared all such as were not present incapable of being candidates for any office; but soon afterwards, when the law was inscribed on brass, and deposited in the treasury, he corrected his mistake. Marcellus, not content with depriving Caesar of his provinces, and the privilege intended him by Pompey, likewise moved the senate, that the freedom of the city should be taken from those colonists whom, by the Vatinian law, he had settled at New Como; because it had been conferred upon them with ambitious views, and by a stretch of the laws.

XXIX. Roused by these proceedings, and thinking, as he was often heard to say, that it would be a more difficult enterprise to reduce him, now that he was the chief man in the state, from the first rank of citizens to the second, than from the second to the lowest of all, Caesar made a vigorous opposition to the measure, partly by means of the tribunes, who interposed in his behalf, and partly through Servius Sulpicius, the other consul. The following year likewise, when Caius Marcellus, who succeeded his cousin Marcus in the consulship, pursued the same course, Caesar, by means of an immense bribe, engaged in his defence Aemilius Paulus, the other consul, and Caius Curio, the most violent of the tribunes. But finding the opposition obstinately bent against him, and that the consuls-elect were also of that party, he wrote a letter to the senate, requesting that they would not deprive him of the privilege kindly granted him by the people; or else that the other generals should resign the command of their armies as well as himself; fully persuaded, as it is thought, that he could more easily collect his veteran soldiers, whenever he pleased, than Pompey could his new-raised troops. At the same time, he made his adversaries an offer to disband eight of his legions and give up Transalpine-Gaul, upon condition that he might retain two legions, with the Cisalpine province, or but one legion with Illyricum, until he should be elected consul.

XXX. But as the senate refused to intervene in the matter, and his adversaries declared they would agree to no compromise when the safety of the republic was at stake, he advanced into Hither-Gaul. After making the circuit to administer justice, he stopped at Ravenna, determined to resort to arms if the senate took extreme measures against the tribunes of the people who supported his cause. This was his stated pretext for the civil war; but it is believed there were other reasons for his actions. Gnaeus Pompey often said that Caesar aimed to create chaos because, despite his immense private wealth, he could not finish the works he had started or meet the high expectations he had raised among the people. Others claim that Caesar feared being called to account for actions taken during his first consulship that went against auspices, laws, and the objections of the tribunes; Marcus Cato sometimes swore he would bring charges against Caesar as soon as he disbanded his army. There was also talk that if Caesar returned as a private citizen, he, like Milo, would have to defend himself in court surrounded by armed men. This suspicion is strongly supported by Asinius Pollio, who reports that after viewing the defeated and slain enemy at Pharsalia, Caesar declared: “This was their intention: I, Caius Caesar, after all my great achievements, would have been condemned if I had not called my army to my aid!” Some think that, after long experience, Caesar developed an extraordinary love of power, and, having weighed his own strength and that of his enemies, seized the chance to take supreme power—a power he desired since his youth. Cicero seems to have held this belief, writing in the third book of his Offices that Caesar frequently quoted two verses of Euripides, which he translates as:

Nam si violandum est jus, regnandi gratia  
Violandum est: aliis rebus pietatem colas.

Be just, unless a kingdom tempts you to break the laws,  
For sovereign power alone can justify such cause.

XXXI. When news arrived that the intercession of the tribunes on his behalf had been completely rejected, and that they themselves had fled the city, Caesar immediately sent forth some cohorts in secret to avoid raising suspicion. To maintain appearances, he attended a public show, examined a model of a fencing-school he planned to build, and, as usual, dined with a large group of friends. But after sunset, with mules from a nearby mill hitched to his carriage, he set out on his journey with as much secrecy as possible, accompanied by only a small group. When the lights went out, he lost his way and wandered for a long time until at last, near dawn, he found a guide who led him on foot through narrow paths back to the road. He joined his troops on the banks of the Rubicon, the boundary of his province, where he paused, reflecting on the importance of the step he was about to take. He turned to those with him and said, “We can still turn back; but if we cross this small bridge, there is nothing left for us but to fight it out.”

XXXII. While he was hesitating, an unusual event occurred. A man of noble appearance and grace appeared nearby, sitting and playing the pipe. When not only shepherds but many soldiers gathered around to listen, including some trumpeters, he grabbed a trumpet from one of them, ran to the river, and, sounding an advancing call with a loud blast, crossed to the other side. At this, Caesar exclaimed, “Let us go where the omens of the gods and the injustice of our enemies call us. The die is now cast.”

XXXIII. Accordingly, after marching his army across the river, he presented to them the tribunes of the people, who had come to meet him after being expelled from the city. In front of the assembly, he called upon his troops to pledge him their loyalty, shedding tears and tearing his garment from his chest. It is supposed that on this occasion he promised every soldier a knight’s estate, but that belief is mistaken. During his speech, as he repeatedly held out a finger of his left hand, saying he would willingly part even with his ring to reward those who supported him in defending his honor, soldiers at a distance, seeing but not hearing, thought he promised them the right to wear a gold ring and estates worth four hundred thousand sesterces.

XXXIV. I will briefly summarize his subsequent actions in the order they happened. He secured Picenum, Umbria, and Etruria; forced Lucius Domitius, who had been hastily named his successor and held Corsinium with a garrison, to surrender and released him; and then marched along the coast of the Upper Sea to Brundusium, where the consuls and Pompey had fled, intending to cross the sea as quickly as possible. After unsuccessful attempts to block their departure from the harbor, he turned toward Rome, where he addressed the senate on the state of public affairs. He then set out for Spain, where Pompey controlled a large army under three lieutenants: Marcus Petreius, Lucius Afranius, and Marcus Varro. Before leaving, he told his friends, “I'm going against an army without a general, and will return against a general without an army.” Although delayed by the siege of Marseilles, which had closed its gates against him, and a severe scarcity of grain, in a short time he overcame all opposition.

XXXV. From there he returned to Rome, then crossed the sea to Macedonia, where he besieged Pompey for nearly four months with an enormous line of fortifications, and finally defeated him at the battle of Pharsalia. He pursued Pompey to Alexandria and, upon hearing of his murder, soon found himself engaged in a dangerous war—totally unprepared and during winter—against King Ptolemy, who clearly intended treachery. Trapped in a well-supplied enemy city but lacking resources, Caesar nevertheless succeeded, placing the kingdom of Egypt in the hands of Cleopatra and her younger brother; he feared making it a Roman province in case an ambitious prefect turned it into a base for revolt. From Alexandria, he went to Syria, and then to Pontus, responding to reports about Pharnaces, the son of Mithridates the Great, who had taken advantage of the chaos to attack his neighbors, growing more arrogant with each victory. Caesar, within five days of entering his country and just four hours after coming in sight of him, defeated him in one decisive battle. He often remarked to his companions on Pompey’s luck in gaining his military reputation mostly by conquering such a weak enemy. Afterwards, Caesar defeated Scipio and Juba, who were regrouping the defeated party in Africa, and then Pompey’s sons in Spain.

XXXVI. During the whole civil war, he only experienced setbacks through his lieutenants: Caius Curio fell in Africa, Caius Antonius was captured in Illyricum, Publius Dolabella lost a fleet there, and Cneius Domitius Calvinus lost an army in Pontus. In battles where Caesar himself commanded, he was always victorious; the outcome was never in doubt except twice: once at Dyrrachium, when he was forced to retreat and, since Pompey did not seize the advantage, said, “Pompey does not know how to win”; and the second time in his final Spanish battle, when, despairing of success, he even considered killing himself.

XXXVII. For his victories in these wars, he celebrated five triumphs; after defeating Scipio, he held four triumphs in one month, each only a few days apart; and later, another after conquering Pompey's sons. His first and most glorious triumph honored his victories in Gaul; the next was for Alexandria, the third for Pontus, the fourth for Africa, and the last for Spain; each differed in its own splendor and spectacle. On the day of the Gallic triumph, while passing through the street called Velabrum, he narrowly escaped falling from his chariot when the axle broke. He ascended the Capitol by torchlight, with forty elephants carrying torches on either side. In the Pontic triumph, a tablet was carried before him bearing the words: I CAME, I SAW, I CONQUERED; not just to state what was done, but to emphasize how swiftly it was accomplished.

XXXVIII. To each veteran foot-soldier, in addition to the two thousand sesterces given at the start of the civil war, he distributed twenty thousand more as prize money. He also granted them land, not in contiguous lots, so that no previous owners were completely dispossessed. To the people of Rome, besides ten modii of grain and as many pounds of oil, he gave three hundred sesterces per person, as earlier promised, and an additional hundred sesterces for the delay in making payment. He also forgave a year’s rent due to the treasury for all houses in Rome not renting for more than two thousand sesterces per year, and throughout the rest of Italy, for rents not exceeding five hundred sesterces a year. He included a public feast, a meat distribution, and, after his Spanish victory, two public banquets. Since he considered the first banquet too meager for his usual generosity, five days later he held another, even more abundant.

XXXIX. He provided varied spectacles for the people: gladiator combats and plays in different districts of the city and in several languages; also, Circensian games, wrestling contests, and a staged naval battle. In the gladiator fights in the Forum, Furius Leptinus—a man of praetorian family—fought as a gladiator, as did Quintus Calpenus, once a senator and advocate. The Pyrrhic dance was performed by young men whose fathers were of the first rank in Asia and Bithynia. Among the plays, Decimus Laberius, a Roman knight, performed in his own play; immediately rewarded with five hundred thousand sesterces and a gold ring, he left the stage through the orchestra and joined the seats reserved for the equestrian order. During the Circensian games, the circus was enlarged at both ends, a canal was dug around it, and young nobles drove chariots drawn by teams of four or two horses, as well as rode races on single horses. Two groups of boys, differing in age and social rank, performed the Trojan game. For five days, wild beasts were hunted; on the last day, a battle took place with five hundred infantry, twenty elephants, and thirty cavalry on each side. To make room for this, the goals were removed and two camps set up in their place, facing one another. Wrestlers performed for three days in a stadium built for the event in the Campus Martius. A lake was dug in the little Codeta, where ships from Tyre and Egypt, with two, three, or four banks of oars and many men on board, fought a naval skirmish. The crowds for these spectacles were so vast that most visitors had to camp in tents in the streets or along the roads near the city. Some people in the crush were accidentally killed, including two senators.

XL. Turning his attention next to the administration of the state, he reformed the calendar, which had become extremely confused because the pontiffs had taken excessive liberties with intercalations. The abuse was so bad that harvest festivals no longer fell in summer nor those for the vintage in autumn. He aligned the year with the sun, ordering it to be 365 days long with no intercalary month, but with an extra day added every fourth year. So that the year would properly begin on the calends, or first of January, he added two months between November and December; so, the year in which this reform was made contained fifteen months, including the intercalary month, as per the custom of the time.

XLI. He filled empty seats in the senate by raising many plebeians to patrician rank and increased the number of praetors, aediles, quaestors, and lower magistrates—restoring those who had been expelled by the censors or convicted of electoral bribery. He divided the election of magistrates with the people so that, except for candidates for the consulship, the people named half and he named the other half. His practice was to recommend his chosen candidates by distributing bills through the tribes: “Caesar the dictator to such a tribe (naming it). I recommend to you (also naming the people), that by your votes they may achieve the honors they seek.” He also restored the rights of office to the sons of the proscribed. He limited the trial of cases to two orders of judges, the equestrian and senatorial, excluding the treasury tribunes who had previously formed a third class. He ordered the census to be taken not as usual and not in one location, but street by street, by the leading residents of each city district; and he reduced the number of people receiving free grain from three hundred twenty thousand to one hundred fifty thousand. To prevent unrest over the census, he directed that the praetor each year draw new names by lot from those not on the grain list to fill vacancies caused by death.

XLII. With eighty thousand citizens sent to foreign colonies, Caesar acted to stop population loss by enacting that no freeborn man of the city between the ages of twenty and forty, who was not a soldier, should be absent from Italy for more than three years; and that no senator’s son could travel abroad unless as part of an official’s staff; and that no less than a third of the shepherds employed by flock-owners be free-born youth. He declared all doctors and all teachers of the liberal arts living in Rome citizens, to encourage them and others to settle there. On the matter of debts, he disappointed many who had hoped for total cancellation; he decreed that debtors should pay creditors according to the value of their property, based on pre-war prices, deducting interest paid in money or notes, so about a quarter of each debt was lost. He dissolved all guilds except those of ancient origin. He punished crimes more severely; for as the wealthy were more apt to offend when the only penalty was exile and they could keep their property, he confiscated all the assets of murderers (as Cicero notes) and half the property of other criminals.

XLIII. He was extremely diligent and strict in his administration of justice. He expelled from the senate any member convicted of bribery and annulled the marriage of a praetorian-ranked man who had wed a woman just two days after her divorce, even though no wrongdoing was suspected. He imposed tariffs on imported goods. Permission to use litters for travel, wear purple robes, or jewelry was limited to people of a certain age, rank, and on specific occasions. He strictly enforced sumptuary laws, stationing officers in markets to seize forbidden meats and bring them to him; he sometimes sent his lictors and soldiers to confiscate victuals that evaded officers, even from dining tables.

XLIV. He was continuously occupied with great plans to beautify and improve the city and extend and secure the empire. He planned to build a temple to Mars greater than any other in the world, for which he meant to fill the lake where the sea-fight had been staged. He conceived a vast theater near the Tarpeian Rock; he proposed to compress civil law and, from the enormous mass of statutes, distill the best and most essential laws into a few books; to assemble as large a library as possible in Greek and Latin for public use, with Marcus Varro overseeing it. He also intended to drain the Pomptine Marshes, channel the waters of Lake Fucinus, build a road from the Upper Sea across the Appenines to the Tiber, cut through the isthmus of Corinth, confine the Dacians—who had overrun Pontus and Thrace—to their own territory, and then to wage war on the Parthians through Lesser Armenia, but not to risk a general battle until he had first tested their military skill. But amid all these plans, death intervened; before discussing that, it is fitting to describe his appearance, dress, and character, both in civil and military life.

XLV. He was said to be tall, fair-complexioned, well-proportioned, with a full face and piercing black eyes; he enjoyed excellent health except late in life, when he was prone to sudden fainting spells and sleep disturbances. He had two attacks of the falling sickness while on campaign. He was meticulous about his personal appearance, not only keeping his hair closely cut and face clean-shaven but even having body hair plucked—a habit for which he was sometimes teased. His baldness greatly bothered him, as he was often ridiculed for it by his enemies. To cover it, he would pull his hair forward from the crown, and of all the honors given him by the senate and people, none pleased him more than the privilege of always wearing the laurel crown. He was said to be particular in dress: he wore the latus clavus with fringed sleeves and always girded it, though rather loosely. This led Sylla often to warn the nobles to “beware the ill-girt boy.”

XLVI. At first, he lived in a small house in the Suburra, but after he became pontifex, he moved into the state-owned palace on the Via Sacra. Many writers say he liked an elegant home and lavish entertainments; that he tore down a villa near Aricia’s grove, though newly built and costly, because it didn't meet his taste, even when his finances were modest and he was in debt. He would also take with him, when travelling, mosaic tiles and marble slabs for his tent floors.

XLVII. It is also reported that he invaded Britain in search of pearls, comparing their sizes and weighing them in his hand; that he was willing to pay any price for gems, carved objects, statues, and paintings made by the great masters of antiquity; and that he paid such enormous sums for young and skilled slaves that he prohibited the amounts from being recorded in his expense diary.

XLVIII. We are further told that in the provinces he always kept two separate tables: one for military officers and local nobility, and another for Romans of the highest rank and distinguished provincials. He was extremely meticulous in managing his household affairs, both large and small: he once imprisoned a baker for serving him finer bread than he gave to the guests, and he executed a freedman who was a favored companion for seducing the wife of a Roman knight, even though no accusation had been made to him about it.

XLIX. The only real stain upon his chastity was his relationship with Nicomedes; this haunted him throughout his life and made him the target of harsh ridicule. I will not dwell on those well-known verses of Calvus Licinius:

Whate’er Bithynia and her lord possess’d,  
Her lord who Caesar in his lust caress’d.  

I’ll skip over the speeches by Dolabella and Curio the elder, in which the former calls him “the queen’s rival, and the inner-side of the royal couch,” and the latter, “the brothel of Nicomedes, and the Bithynian stew.” Nor will I discuss the edicts of Bibulus, who referred to his colleague as “the queen of Bithynia,” adding, “he was once in love with a king, but now desires a kingdom.” At that time, as Marcus Brutus reports, one Octavius—a man of unsound mind and therefore more free with his remarks—addressed Pompey in a crowded assembly as king, and Caesar as queen. Caius Memmius also mocked him for serving the king at table among his other favorites, in the presence of a large company that included several Roman merchants, whose names are given. Even Cicero was not content with merely writing in his letters that Caesar was led by royal servants into the king’s bedroom and lay on a golden bed with purple coverings, and that this young scion of Venus was corrupted in Bithynia. When Caesar defended Nysa, Nicomedes’ daughter, before the senate and recounted the king’s kindness, Cicero interrupted sarcastically, “Tell us no more of that; we all know what he gave you, and what you gave him.” To sum up, at his Gallic triumph, among the songs his soldiers chanted as they marched behind his chariot, these lines—now very widely known—were included:

The Gauls to Caesar yield, Caesar to Nicomede,  
Lo! Caesar triumphs for his glorious deed,  
But Caesar’s conqueror gains no victor’s meed.  

L. It is generally agreed he was heavily addicted to women and extravagant in his affairs with them, seducing many prominent women—including Posthumia, wife of Servius Sulpicius; Lollia, wife of Aulus Gabinius; Tertulla, wife of Marcus Crassus; and Mucia, wife of Gnaeus Pompey. The Curios, both father and son, and many others, accused Pompey of marrying the daughter of a man whose affairs had caused him to divorce his wife after three children and whom he used to call Aegisthus with a deep sigh. But his most beloved mistress was Servilia, mother of Marcus Brutus, for whom, in his first consulship after starting their affair, he bought a pearl costing six million sesterces; and during the civil war, besides other gifts, sold her at a nominal price some valuable estates that were being auctioned publicly. Many expressed amazement at the low price, to which Cicero cleverly remarked, “To clarify the actual price—between ourselves, Tertia was included;” for Servilia was rumored to have prostituted her daughter Tertia to Caesar.

(34) LI. That he also had affairs with married women in the provinces is suggested by this verse, as popular during the Gallic Triumph as any other:

Watch well your wives, ye cits, we bring a blade,  
A bald-pate master of the wenching trade.  
Thy gold was spent on many a Gallic w—-e;  
Exhausted now, thou com’st to borrow more.  

LII. Among his lovers were also queens; for example, Eunoe, a Moor and wife of Bogudes, to whom and to her husband, according to Naso, he gave enormous gifts. But his greatest favorite was Cleopatra: he often feasted with her all night until dawn and would have traveled through Egypt with her in luxury as far as Ethiopia in her pleasure yacht if only the army had agreed to follow him. Later, he invited her to Rome, then sent her home laden with honors and presents, and allowed her to call a son by his name—a boy who, according to some Greek historians, closely resembled Caesar in both appearance and bearing. Mark Antony declared in the senate that Caesar acknowledged the boy as his own, and that Caius Matias, Caius Oppius, and the rest of Caesar’s friends knew this was true. On this occasion, Oppius, as if accused, published a book to argue “that the child Cleopatra attributed to Caesar was not his.” Helvius Cinna, tribune of the people, admitted to several people that he had a law drafted at Caesar’s command, to be enacted in his absence, allowing Caesar—with hopes of heirs—to take any wife he chose, and as many wives as he pleased. And, to remove any doubt about his notorious reputation for sexual misconduct and adultery, Curio the elder said in one speech, “He was every woman’s man, and every man’s woman.”

LIII. Even his enemies admit that, when it came to wine, he was temperate. Marcus Cato is said to have remarked that “Caesar was the only sober man among all those plotting to overthrow the government.” On food, Caius Oppius tells us that he cared so little about it that, when once served stale rather than fresh oil at a host’s house—and while the others abstained—he alone ate heartily, so as not to embarrass the host for lack of refinement or attention.

LIV. However, his restraint did not extend to money, whether as a military commander or in civil office; some writers attest that he took funds from the proconsul who preceded him in Spain, and from Roman allies there, to pay his debts; and that he plundered towns of the Lusitanians at sword point, even when they offered no resistance and opened their gates to him. In Gaul, he looted temples and shrines filled with valuable offerings, and destroyed cities more for their riches than for any offense. As a result, gold became so plentiful in his hands that he exchanged it throughout Italy and the provinces for three thousand sesterces per pound. In his first consulship he stole three thousand pounds of gold from the Capitol, replacing it with the same weight in gilt brass. He also sold the titles of “allies” and “kings” to foreign nations and rulers for gold, and extracted about six thousand talents from Ptolemy alone, supposedly on his and Pompey’s behalf. He later paid for the costs of civil wars, his triumphs, and public games through the most blatant plunder and sacrilege.

LV. In eloquence and military exploits, he equaled—if not surpassed—the greatest men. After he prosecuted Dolabella, he was considered among the top advocates. Cicero, writing to Brutus about famous orators, says “he sees none to whom Caesar is inferior,” and calls Caesar’s talent “elegant, splendid, noble, and magnificent” in style. And in a letter to Cornelius Nepos, Cicero says of Caesar: “Of all the orators whose whole lives were devoted to that pursuit, who can be preferred to him? Who is sharper or neater in his expressions, or uses more polished and elegant language?” As a young man, Caesar reportedly modeled himself after Strabo Caesar, from whose defense of the Sardinians he copied passages literally into his Divination. Caesar delivered speeches in a high-pitched voice and his oratory was lively, though not inelegant. Several of his speeches survive, though some are spurious, such as the one “On behalf of Quintus Metellus.” Augustus reasonably believed these to be the work of sloppy shorthand writers who couldn’t keep up with Caesar’s delivery, rather than official publications; in some copies, the heading is “To Metellus,” not “For Metellus,” though the speech defends both Metellus and Caesar from slanders. The address “To his soldiers in Spain” Augustus also considered fake—there are two with that title, one supposedly given before the first battle, the other before the last, but Asinius Pollio says Caesar was too rushed by the enemy attack in the latter case to address his army.

LVI. He also wrote commentaries of his campaigns in Gaul and his civil war with Pompey; the authorship of the works covering the Alexandrian, African, and Spanish wars, however, is uncertain. Some think they were written by Oppius, others by Hirtius (who completed the unfinished last book of the Gallic War). Of Caesar’s Commentaries, Cicero wrote in his Brutus: “He wrote his Commentaries in a highly commendable style: clear, precise, and elegant, without any attempt at rhetorical decoration. By thus providing material for later historians, he may have inspired some foolish people to attempt writing about his life with excessive flamboyance; but he has deterred wise men from ever taking up the subject.” Hirtius says of the Commentaries: “Their universal admiration is such that, rather than inspiring, he has almost prevented, anyone from writing about him afterward. Yet our admiration is even greater than theirs: they know how well and correctly he wrote, but we also know how easily and quickly he did it.” Asinius Pollio believed the Commentaries weren’t written with great care and were not entirely truthful; he hints that Caesar was too credulous about reports from his subordinates and did not always accurately report his own actions—whether by mistake or intention. Pollio believes Caesar intended to publish a new, more accurate account. Caesar also left two books on Analogy, two entitled Anti-Cato, and a poem, The Itinerary. He wrote the first two while crossing the Alps to return to his army in Hither-Gaul, the second work around the time of the battle of Munda, and the last during the twenty-four days it took to travel from Rome to Farther-Spain. Some of his letters to the senate also survive, written in a style unique for their time: divided into pages like a notebook, rather than in the usual format of writing straight across the page. Letters to Cicero and to others also exist, sometimes using ciphers for secrecy: the letters use a shifted alphabet so that no word is intelligible, substituting the fourth letter for the first (d for a, etc.). He is also said to have written, in his youth, works such as the Encomium of Hercules, a tragedy called Oedipus, and a collection of Apophthegms—all of which Augustus ordered not to be published, notifying Pompeius Macer by a brief, plain letter while Macer was organizing the imperial libraries.

(38) LVII. He was an expert with weapons, an accomplished rider, and could endure hardships almost beyond belief. On marches, he would often lead the way, sometimes on horseback, more often on foot, bareheaded in all kinds of weather. He would travel post in a light carriage with no baggage at a rate of one hundred miles a day; if confronted by an impassable river, he would swim across or float on air-filled skins, sometimes even arriving before news of his journey could reach his destination.

LVIII. In his military campaigns, it is hard to say whether caution or daring was more prominent. He never marched his army through potentially dangerous terrain without first sending scouts to examine the ground. Before crossing to Britain, he personally checked the navigation, harbors, and the best landing points on the island. When he learned his camp in Germany was under siege, he reached his men by slipping through the enemy lines disguised in Gallic dress. He crossed the sea from Brundisium to Dyrrachium in winter, passing through enemy fleets, and when reinforcements were slow even after repeated messages, he finally slipped away alone at night onto a small boat, wrapped up so as not to be recognized; he did not reveal himself or allow the captain to turn back, even though the rough seas nearly sank them.

LIX. He was never discouraged from any venture nor slowed down by superstition. When a sacrificial animal he was about to offer broke free, he went ahead with his campaign against Scipio and Juba anyway. When he stumbled landing from a ship, he made light of the omen by exclaiming, “I’ve got you now, Africa!” To counter rumors that fate made the Scipios undefeatable in Africa, he kept a degenerate member of the Cornelii family, nicknamed Salutio, in the camp to mock the superstition.

LX. He not only fought pitched battles, but made sudden attacks when an opportunity offered; often at the end of a march, and sometimes during the most violent storms, when nobody could imagine he would stir. Nor was he ever backward in fighting, until towards the end of his life. He then was of opinion, that the oftener he had been crowned with success, the less he ought to expose himself to new hazards; and that nothing he could gain by a victory would compensate for what he might lose by a miscarriage. He never defeated the enemy without driving them from their camp; and giving them no time to rally their forces. When the issue of a battle was doubtful, he sent away all the horses, and his own first, that having no means of flight, they might be under the greater necessity of standing their ground.

LXI. He rode a very remarkable horse, with feet almost like those of a man, the hoofs being divided in such a manner as to have some resemblance to toes. This horse he had bred himself, and the soothsayers having interpreted these circumstances into an omen that its owner would be master of the world, he brought him up with particular care, and broke him in himself, as the horse would suffer no one else to mount him. A statue of this horse was afterwards erected by Caesar’s order before the temple of Venus Genitrix.

LXII. He often rallied his troops, when they were giving way, by his personal efforts; stopping those who fled, keeping others in their ranks, and seizing them by their throat turned them towards the enemy; although numbers were so terrified, that an eagle-bearer ^83, thus stopped, made a thrust at him with (40) the spear-head; and another, upon a similar occasion, left the standard in his hand.

LXIII. The following instances of his resolution are equally, and even more remarkable. After the battle of Pharsalia, having sent his troops before him into Asia, as he was passing the straits of the Hellespont in a ferry-boat, he met with Lucius Cassius, one of the opposite party, with ten ships of war; and so far from endeavouring to escape, he went alongside his ship, and calling upon him to surrender, Cassius humbly gave him his submission.

LXIV. At Alexandria, in the attack of a bridge, being forced by a sudden sally of the enemy into a boat, and several others hurrying in with him, he leaped into the sea, and saved himself by swimming to the next ship, which lay at the distance of two hundred paces; holding up his left hand out of the water, for fear of wetting some papers which he held in it; and pulling his general’s cloak after him with his teeth, lest it should fall into the hands of the enemy.

LXV. He never valued a soldier for his moral conduct or his means, but for his courage only; and treated his troops with a mixture of severity and indulgence; for he did not always keep a strict hand over them, but only when the enemy was near. Then indeed he was so strict a disciplinarian, that he would give no notice of a march or a battle until the moment of action, in order that the troops might hold themselves in readiness for any sudden movement; and he would frequently draw them out of the camp without any necessity for it, especially in rainy weather, and upon holy-days. Sometimes, giving them orders not to lose sight of him, he would suddenly depart by day or by night, and lengthen the marches in order to tire them out, as they followed him at a distance.

LXVI. When at any time his troops were dispirited by reports of the great force of the enemy, he rallied their courage; not by denying the truth of what was said, or by diminishing the facts, but, on the contrary, by exaggerating every particular. (41) Accordingly, when his troops were in great alarm at the expected arrival of king Juba, he called them together, and said, “I have to inform you that in a very few days the king will be here, with ten legions, thirty thousand horse, a hundred thousand light-armed foot, and three hundred elephants. Let none of you, therefore, presume to make further enquiry, or indulge in conjectures, but take my word for what I tell you, which I have from undoubted intelligence; otherwise I shall put them aboard an old crazy vessel, and leave them exposed to the mercy of the winds, to be transported to some other country.”

LXVII. He neither noticed all their transgressions, nor punished them according to strict rule. But for deserters and mutineers he made the most diligent enquiry, and their punishment was most severe: other delinquencies he would connive at. Sometimes, after a great battle ending in victory, he would grant them a relaxation from all kinds of duty, and leave them to revel at pleasure; being used to boast, “that his soldiers fought nothing the worse for being well oiled.” In his speeches, he never addressed them by the title of “Soldiers,” but by the kinder phrase of “Fellow-soldiers;” and kept them in such splendid order, that their arms were ornamented with silver and gold, not merely for parade, but to render the soldiers more resolute to save them in battle, and fearful of losing them. He loved his troops to such a degree, that when he heard of the defeat of those under Titurius, he neither cut his hair nor shaved his beard, until he had revenged it upon the enemy; by which means he engaged their devoted affection, and raised their valour to the highest pitch.

LXVIII. Upon his entering on the civil war, the centurions of every legion offered, each of them, to maintain a horseman at his own expense, and the whole army agreed to serve gratis, without either corn or pay; those amongst them who were rich, charging themselves with the maintenance of the poor. No one of them, during the whole course of the war, deserted to the enemy; and many of those who were made prisoners, though they were offered their lives, upon condition of bearing arms against him, refused to accept the terms. They endured want, and other hardships, not only (42) when they were besieged themselves, but when they besieged others, to such a degree, that Pompey, when blocked up in the neighbourhood of Dyrrachium, upon seeing a sort of bread made of an herb, which they lived upon, said, “I have to do with wild beasts,” and ordered it immediately to be taken away; because, if his troops should see it, their spirit might be broken by perceiving the endurance and determined resolution of the enemy. With what bravery they fought, one instance affords sufficient proof; which is, that after an unsuccessful engagement at Dyrrachium, they called for punishment; insomuch that their general found it more necessary to comfort than to punish them. In other battles, in different quarters, they defeated with ease immense armies of the enemy, although they were much inferior to them in number. In short, one cohort of the sixth legion held out a fort against four legions belonging to Pompey, during several hours; being almost every one of them wounded by the vast number of arrows discharged against them, and of which there were found within the ramparts a hundred and thirty thousand. This is no way surprising, when we consider the conduct of some individuals amongst them; such as that of Cassius Scaeva, a centurion, or Caius Acilius, a common soldier, not to speak of others. Scaeva, after having an eye struck out, being run through the thigh and the shoulder, and having his shield pierced in an hundred and twenty places, maintained obstinately the guard of the gate of a fort, with the command of which he was intrusted. Acilius, in the sea-fight at Marseilles, having seized a ship of the enemy’s with his right hand, and that being cut off, in imitation of that memorable instance of resolution in Cynaegirus amongst the Greeks, boarded the enemy’s ship, bearing down all before him with the boss of his shield.

LXIX. They never once mutinied during all the ten years of the Gallic war, but were sometimes refractory in the course of the civil war. However, they always returned quickly to their duty, and that not through the indulgence, but in submission to the authority, of their general; for he never yielded to them when they were insubordinate, but constantly resisted their demands. He disbanded the whole ninth legion with ignominy at Placentia, although Pompey was still in arms, and would (43) not receive them again into his service, until they had not only made repeated and humble entreaties, but until the ringleaders in the mutiny were punished.

LXX. When the soldiers of the tenth legion at Rome demanded their discharge and rewards for their service, with violent threats and no small danger to the city, although the war was then raging in Africa, he did not hesitate, contrary to the advice of his friends, to meet the legion, and disband it. But addressing them by the title of “Quirites,” instead of “Soldiers,” he by this single word so thoroughly brought them round and changed their determination, that they immediately cried out, they were his “soldiers,” and followed him to Africa, although he had refused their service. He nevertheless punished the most mutinous among them, with the loss of a third of their share in the plunder, and the land destined for them.

LXXI. In the service of his clients, while yet a young man, he evinced great zeal and fidelity. He defended the cause of a noble youth, Masintha, against king Hiempsal, so strenuously, that in a scuffle which took place upon the occasion, he seized by the beard the son of king Juba; and upon Masintha’s being declared tributary to Hiempsal, while the friends of the adverse party were violently carrying him off, he immediately rescued him by force, kept him concealed in his house a long time, and when, at the expiration of his praetorship, he went to Spain, he took him away in his litter, in the midst of his lictors bearing the fasces, and others who had come to attend and take leave of him.

LXXII. He always treated his friends with such kindness and good-nature, that when Caius Oppius, in travelling with him through a forest, was suddenly taken ill, he resigned to him the only place there was to shelter them at night, and lay upon the ground in the open air. When he had placed himself at the head of affairs, he advanced some of his faithful adherents, though of mean extraction, to the highest offices; and when he was censured for this partiality, he openly said, “Had I been assisted by robbers and cut-throats in the defence of my honour, I should have made them the same recompense.”

(44) LXXIII. The resentment he entertained against any one was never so implacable that he did not very willingly renounce it when opportunity offered. Although Caius Memmius had published some extremely virulent speeches against him, and he had answered him with equal acrimony, yet he afterwards assisted him with his vote and interest, when he stood candidate for the consulship. When C. Calvus, after publishing some scandalous epigrams upon him, endeavoured to effect a reconciliation by the intercession of friends, he wrote to him, of his own accord, the first letter. And when Valerius Catullus, who had, as he himself observed, fixed such a stain upon his character in his verses upon Mamurra as never could be obliterated, he begged his pardon, invited him to supper the same day; and continued to take up his lodging with his father occasionally, as he had been accustomed to do.

LXXIV. His temper was also naturally averse to severity in retaliation. After he had captured the pirates, by whom he had been taken, having sworn that he would crucify them, he did so indeed; but he first ordered their throats to be cut ^84. He could never bear the thought of doing any harm to Cornelius Phagitas, who had dogged him in the night when he was sick and a fugitive, with the design of carrying him to Sylla, and from whose hands he had escaped with some difficulty by giving him a bribe. Philemon, his amanuensis, who had promised his enemies to poison him, he put to death without torture. When he was summoned as a witness against Publicus Clodius, his wife Pompeia’s gallant, who was prosecuted for the profanation of religious ceremonies, he declared he knew nothing of the affair, although his mother Aurelia, and his sister Julia, gave the court an exact and full account of the circumstances. And being asked why then he had divorced his wife? “Because,” he said, “my family should not only be free from guilt, but even from the suspicion of it.”

LXXV. Both in his administration and his conduct towards the vanquished party in the civil war, he showed a wonderful moderation and clemency. For while Pompey declared that he would consider those as enemies who did not take arms in defence of the republic, he desired it to be understood, that he (45) should regard those who remained neuter as his friends. With regard to all those to whom he had, on Pompey’s recommendation, given any command in the army, he left them at perfect liberty to go over to him, if they pleased. When some proposals were made at Ileria ^85 for a surrender, which gave rise to a free communication between the two camps, and Afranius and Petreius, upon a sudden change of resolution, had put to the sword all Caesar’s men who were found in the camp, he scorned to imitate the base treachery which they had practised against himself. On the field of Pharsalia, he called out to the soldiers “to spare their fellow-citizens,” and afterwards gave permission to every man in his army to save an enemy. None of them, so far as appears, lost their lives but in battle, excepting only Afranius, Faustus, and young Lucius Caesar; and it is thought that even they were put to death without his consent. Afranius and Faustus had borne arms against him, after obtaining their pardon; and Lucius Caesar had not only in the most cruel manner destroyed with fire and sword his freed-men and slaves, but cut to pieces the wild beasts which he had prepared for the entertainment of the people. And finally, a little before his death, he permitted all whom he had not before pardoned, to return into Italy, and to bear offices both civil and military. He even replaced the statues of Sylla and Pompey, which had been thrown down by the populace. And after this, whatever was devised or uttered, he chose rather to check than to punish it. Accordingly, having detected certain conspiracies and nocturnal assemblies, he went no farther than to intimate by a proclamation that he knew of them; and as to those who indulged themselves in the liberty of reflecting severely upon him, he only warned them in a public speech not to persist in their offence. He bore with great moderation a virulent libel written against him by Aulus Caecinna, and the abusive lampoons of Pitholaus, most highly reflecting on his reputation.

LXXVI. His other words and actions, however, so far outweigh all his good qualities, that it is thought he abused his power, and was justly cut off. For he not only obtained excessive honours, such as the consulship every year, the dictatorship for life, and the censorship, but also the title of emperor ^86, (46) and the surname of FATHER OF HIS COUNTRY ^87, besides having his statue amongst the kings ^88, and a lofty couch in the theatre. He even suffered some honours to be decreed to him, which were unbefitting the most exalted of mankind; such as a gilded chair of state in the senate-house and on his tribunal, a consecrated chariot, and banners in the Circensian procession, temples, altars, statues among the gods, a bed of state in the temples, a priest, and a college of priests dedicated to himself, like those of Pan; and that one of the months should be called by his name. There were, indeed, no honours which he did not either assume himself, or grant to others, at his will and pleasure. In his third and fourth consulship, he used only the title of the office, being content with the power of dictator, which was conferred upon him with the consulship; and in both years he substituted other consuls in his room, during the three last months; so that in the intervals he held no assemblies of the people, for the election of magistrates, excepting only tribunes and ediles of the people; and appointed officers, under the name of praefects, instead of the praetors, to administer the affairs of the city during his absence. The office of consul having become vacant, by the sudden death of one of the consuls the day before the calends of January \[the 1st Jan.\], he conferred it on a person who requested it of him, for a few hours. Assuming the same licence, and regardless of the customs of his country, he appointed magistrates to hold their offices for terms of years. He granted the insignia of the consular dignity to ten persons of pretorian rank. He admitted into the senate some men who had been made free of the city, and even natives of Gaul, who were semi-barbarians. (47) He likewise appointed to the management of the mint, and the public revenue of the state, some servants of his own household; and entrusted the command of three legions, which he left at Alexandria, to an old catamite of his, the son of his freed-man Rufinus.

LXXVII. He was guilty of the same extravagance in the language he publicly used, as Titus Ampius informs us; according to whom he said, “The republic is nothing but a name, without substance or reality. Sylla was an ignorant fellow to abdicate the dictatorship. Men ought to consider what is becoming when they talk with me, and look upon what I say as a law.” To such a pitch of arrogance did he proceed, that when a soothsayer announced to him the unfavourable omen, that the entrails of a victim offered for sacrifice were without a heart, he said, “The entrails will be more favourable when I please; and it ought not to be regarded as a prodigy that a beast should be found wanting a heart.”

LXXVIII. But what brought upon him the greatest odium, and was thought an unpardonable insult, was his receiving the whole body of the conscript fathers sitting, before the temple of Venus Genitrix, when they waited upon him with a number of decrees, conferring on him the highest dignities. Some say that, on his attempting to rise, he was held down by Cornelius Balbus; others, that he did not attempt to rise at all, but frowned on Caius Trebatius, who suggested to him that he should stand up to receive the senate. This behaviour appeared the more intolerable in him, because, when one of the tribunes of the people, Pontius Aquila, would not rise up to him, as he passed by the tribunes’ seat during his triumph, he was so much offended, that he cried out, “Well then, you tribune, Aquila, oust me from the government.” And for some days afterwards, he never promised a favour to any person, without this proviso, “if Pontus Aquila will give me leave.”

LXXIX. To this extraordinary mark of contempt for the senate, he added another affront still more outrageous. For when, after the sacred rites of the Latin festival, he was returning home, amidst the immoderate and unusual acclamations (48) of the people, a man in the crowd put a laurel crown, encircled with a white fillet ^89, on one of his statues; upon which, the tribunes of the people, Epidius Marullus, and Caesetius Flavus, ordered the fillet to be removed from the crown, and the man to be taken to prison. Caesar, being much concerned either that the idea of royalty had been suggested to so little purpose, or, as was said, that he was thus deprived of the merit of refusing it, reprimanded the tribunes very severely, and dismissed them from their office. From that day forward, he was never able to wipe off the scandal of affecting the name of king, although he replied to the populace, when they saluted him by that title, “I am Caesar, and no king.” And at the feast of the Lupercalia ^90, when the consul Antony placed a crown upon his head in the rostra several times, he as often put it away, and sent it to the Capitol for Jupiter, the Best and the Greatest. A report was very current, that he had a design of withdrawing to Alexandria or Ilium, whither he proposed to transfer the imperial power, to drain Italy by new levies, and to leave the government of the city to be administered by his friends. To this report it was added, that in the next meeting of the senate, Lucius Cotta, one of the fifteen ^91, would make a motion, that as there was in the Sibylline books a prophecy, that the Parthians would never be subdued but by a king, Caesar should have that title conferred upon him.

LXXX. For this reason, the conspirators rushed to carry out their plan 92, so they would not have to agree to the proposal. Instead of meeting separately in small groups, they now pooled their strategies; the people themselves were unhappy with the current situation, complaining both in private and in public (49) about the tyranny they endured and calling on patriots to stand up against the usurper. When foreigners were admitted to the senate, a notice was posted with these words: “A good deed! Let no one show a new senator the way to the house.” These verses were also widely recited:

The Gauls, he dragged in triumph through the town,  
Caesar has brought into the senate-house,  
And changed their plaids 93 for the patrician gown.

Gallos Caesar in triumphum ducit: iidem in curiam  
Galli braccas deposuerunt, latum clavum sumpserunt.

When Quintus Maximus, who had served as his deputy consul for the last three months, entered the theatre and the lictor, as usual, called for attention, the entire audience shouted, “He is no consul.” After Caesetius and Marullus were removed from office, they received many votes at the next consular election. Someone wrote beneath the statue of Lucius Brutus, “Would you were now alive!” and under Caesar’s own statue:

Because he drove the royal line from Rome,  
Brutus was made the first consul, in their place.  
This man, because he drove the consuls down,  
Has been rewarded with a royal crown.

Brutus, quia reges ejecit, consul primus factus est:  
Hic, quia consules ejecit, rex postremo factus est.

About sixty people were involved in the plot against him, with Caius Cassius, and Marcus and Decimus Brutus as leaders. At first, they debated whether to attack him in the Campus Martius while he was counting the tribes' votes—some would throw him from the bridge, others would stab him as he fell—or, perhaps, in the Via Sacra, or at the entrance of the theatre. But when a public proclamation summoned the senate to meet on the Ides of March [15th of March], in Pompey’s senate-house, they agreed that both the time and the place were ideal for their purpose.

LXXXI. Caesar was unmistakably warned of his fate by omens (50). A few months earlier, while colonists at Capua—settled there under the Julian law—were tearing down old tombs for country houses, they found some ancient vessels and a brass tablet in a tomb said to hold Capys, the founder of Capua. The inscription, in Greek, read: “Whenever the bones of Capys come to be discovered, a descendant of Iulus will be killed by his relatives’ hands, and his death avenged by terrible disasters throughout Italy.” To prevent anyone dismissing this as a legend, it was circulated on the authority of Caius Balbus, a close friend of Caesar. Also, a few days before his death, he was informed that the horses he had consecrated and released by the Rubicon, after his crossing, stopped eating altogether and wept tears. The soothsayer Spurinna, upon seeing ominous signs in a sacrifice, advised him to beware of some danger before the Ides of March had passed. On the day before the Ides, birds from a nearby grove hunted down a wren with a laurel leaf in its beak in Pompey’s senate-house 94, and tore it apart. That night, as his murder approached, Caesar dreamed that he soared above the clouds and joined hands with Jupiter. His wife Calpurnia dreamed the house’s roof collapsed and her husband was stabbed on her chest; at once, their chamber doors flew open. These omens, and his poor health, made him consider staying home and postponing his proposals to the senate. However, Decimus Brutus persuaded him not to disappoint the waiting senators, so he agreed to go, leaving around the fifth hour. On his way, someone thrust a note into his hand, warning of the plot, but he simply mixed it in with other documents, intending to read it later. Victim after victim was sacrificed, but the omens never turned favorable; disregarding everything, Caesar entered the senate-house, joking with Spurinna about being a false prophet, since the Ides of March had come without disaster. Spurinna replied, “They are come, indeed, but not past.”

LXXXII. When Caesar had taken his seat, the conspirators surrounded him, pretending to pay their respects. Tullius Cimber, who had agreed to begin the attack, came closer, as if seeking a favor. Caesar motioned him to ask another time. Tullius then grabbed Caesar’s toga on both shoulders; Caesar exclaimed, “Violence is meant!” One of the Cassii stabbed him just below the throat. Caesar grabbed the assailant's arm and wounded it with his stylus 95, but as he tried to escape, he was held back by another wound. Now attacked from all sides by men with drawn daggers, he pulled his toga 96 over his head, and, at the same moment, drew the skirt around his legs with his left hand, so he would fall with the lower part of his body covered. He was stabbed twenty-three times, groaning only at the first wound. While some writers claim that, when Marcus Brutus attacked, Caesar said, “What! Are you, too, among them? You, my son!” 97 The gathering instantly (52) scattered, and Caesar’s body lay there until three of his slaves placed it on a litter and carried it home, one arm hanging down. The surgeon Antistius found that, among so many wounds, only the second, in the chest, was fatal. The conspirators had planned to throw his body into the Tiber right after the murder, seize his property, and undo all his acts, but they were frightened off by Mark Antony and Lepidus, Caesar’s chief cavalry officer, and gave up those plans.

LXXXIII. At the urging of Lucius Piso, his father-in-law, Caesar’s will was opened and read in Mark Antony’s house. He had drafted it on the Ides of the previous September, at his Lavican villa, and entrusted it to the chief of the Vestal Virgins. Quintus Tubero says that, in every will made from his first consulship to the outbreak of the civil war, Cneius Pompey was his designated heir, which was public knowledge among the army. But in his last will, he named three heirs—his sisters’ grandsons: Caius Octavius received three-quarters of his estate, and Lucius Pinarius and Quintus Pedius shared the remaining quarter. Other heirs were listed at the end of the will, and Caius Octavius was formally adopted into his family, to take his name. Most of those involved in Caesar’s death were named as potential guardians for his son, had he had one; Decimus Brutus was also among his alternate heirs. He bequeathed his gardens near the Tiber to the Roman people, and three hundred sesterces to each man.

LXXXIV. Caesar’s funeral was officially announced. A funeral pyre was set up in the Campus Martius, near his daughter Julia’s tomb. In front of the Rostra was a gilded structure patterned after the temple of Venus Genitrix, inside which stood an ivory couch draped with purple and gold cloth. At its head was a trophy displaying the robe he wore when he was killed. To allow more people to make offerings, directions were given that all, regardless of rank, could bring funeral gifts from the city to the Campus Martius by any route they liked. To arouse pity and outrage over his murder, at the funeral games they performed a passage from Pacuvius’s tragedy, “The Trial for Arms:”

That ever I, unhappy man, should save  
Wretches, who thus have brought me to the grave! 98

They also sang some lines from Attilius's “Electra,” to the same effect. Instead of a funeral speech, Consul Antony had a herald proclaim the senate’s decree bestowing on Caesar every honor, human and divine; and also reminded the people of their oath to defend his person, to which Antony added just a few of his own words. The magistrates and ex-officials carried the bier from the Rostra to the Forum. Some wanted the body burned in the sanctuary of Jupiter Capitolinus, others in Pompey’s senate-house. Suddenly, two armed men set the bier alight with torches. The crowd quickly piled dry faggots, the benches and court furniture, and anything else available onto the blaze. Musicians and actors tore off their costumes—borrowed from his triumph wardrobe for the occasion—and threw them into the fire. His veteran legionaries also offered their arms, which they wore in his honor. Most of the women did the same with their jewelry, bullae 99, and their children's mantles. People from all nations mourned him, each according to their own customs, but the Jews 100 in particular spent several nights at the site where his body was burned.

LXXXV. The crowd rushed from the funeral, still carrying torches, to the homes of Brutus and Cassius, and were barely turned away. Looking for Cornelius Cinna—who had delivered a harsh speech against Caesar the day before, and mistaking Helvius Cinna for him—they killed Helvius, parading his head around the city on a spear. Later, they erected in the Forum a column of Numidian marble, almost twenty feet tall, inscribed TO THE FATHER OF HIS COUNTRY. For a long time after, people made offerings, vows, and even resolved disputes while swearing by Caesar at this column.

LXXXVI. Some of Caesar’s friends suspected that, because of his failing health, he no longer wished to live, and for that reason ignored both religious omens and the advice of friends. Others believe he felt secure under the recent senate decree and their oaths, so he dismissed his Spanish guards who had attended him with drawn swords. Yet others suppose he preferred to face danger at once, rather than always be on guard. Some say that he used to remark the commonwealth’s security was more important than his own; that he had had his share of power and glory, but if anything happened to him, Rome would know no peace, and, thrown into another civil war, would end worse than before.

(55) LXXXVII. However, it was widely acknowledged that his death was, in many ways, just as he would have wished. Xenophon records that, when Cyrus was dying, he gave careful instructions regarding his burial. Caesar, reading this account, expressed a wish to avoid a lingering death, preferring one that would be sudden and quick. On the night before he died, at supper in the house of Marcus Lepidus, the talk turned to the best way to die, and Caesar declared his preference for a swift and unexpected death.

LXXXVIII. He died in the fifty-sixth year of his age, and was ranked amongst the Gods, not only by a formal decree, but in the belief of the vulgar. For during the first games which Augustus, his heir, consecrated to his memory, a comet blazed for seven days together, rising always about eleven o’clock; and it was supposed to be the soul of Caesar, now received into heaven: for which reason, likewise, he is represented on his statue with a star on his brow. The senate-house in which he was slain, was ordered to be shut up 101, and a decree made that the ides of March should be called parricidal, and the senate should never more assemble on that day.

LXXXIX. Scarcely any of those who were accessary to his murder, survived him more than three years, or died a natural death 102. They were all condemned by the senate: some were taken off by one accident, some by another. Part of them perished at sea, others fell in battle; and some slew themselves with the same poniard with which they had stabbed Caesar 103.

(56) 104 The termination of the civil war between Caesar and Pompey forms a new epoch in the Roman History, at which a Republic, which had subsisted with unrivalled glory during a period of about four hundred and sixty years, relapsed into a state of despotism, whence it never more could emerge. So sudden a transition from prosperity to the ruin of public freedom, without the intervention of any foreign enemy, excites a reasonable conjecture, that the constitution in which it could take place, however vigorous in appearance, must have lost that soundness of political health which had enabled it to endure through so many ages. A short view of its preceding state, and of that in which it was at the time of the revolution now mentioned, will best ascertain the foundation of such a conjecture.

Though the Romans, upon the expulsion of Tarquin, made an essential change in the political form of the state, they did not carry their detestation of regal authority so far as to abolish the religious institutions of Numa Pompilius, the second of their kings, according to which, the priesthood, with all the influence annexed to that order, was placed in the hands of the aristocracy. By this wise policy a restraint was put upon the fickleness and violence of the people in matters of government, and a decided superiority given to the Senate both in the deliberative and executive parts of administration. This advantage was afterwards indeed diminished by the creation of Tribunes of the people; a set of men whose ambition often embroiled the Republic in civil dissensions, and who at last abused their authority to such a degree, that they became instruments of aggrandizement to any leading men in the state who could purchase their friendship. In general, however, the majority of the Tribunes being actuated by views which comprehended the interests of the multitude, rather than those of individuals, they did not so much endanger the liberty, as they interrupted the tranquillity, of the public; and when the occasional commotions subsided, there remained no permanent ground for the establishment of personal usurpation.

In every government, an object of the last importance to the peace and welfare of society is the morals of the people; and in proportion as a community is enlarged by propagation, or the accession of a multitude of new members, a more strict attention is requisite to guard against that dissolution of manners to which a crowded and extensive capital has a natural tendency. Of this (57) the Romans became sensible in the growing state of the Republic. In the year of the City 312, two magistrates were first created for taking an account of the number of the people, and the value of their estates; and soon after, they were invested with the authority not only of inspecting the morals of individuals, but of inflicting public censure for any licentiousness of conduct, or violation of decency. Thus both the civil and religious institutions concurred to restrain the people within the bounds of good order and obedience to the laws; at the same time that the frugal life of the ancient Romans proved a strong security against those vices which operate most effectually towards sapping the foundations of a state.

But in the time of Julius Caesar the barriers of public liberty were become too weak to restrain the audacious efforts of ambitious and desperate men. The veneration for the constitution, usually a powerful check to treasonable designs, had been lately violated by the usurpations of Marius and Sylla. The salutary terrors of religion no longer predominated over the consciences of men. The shame of public censure was extinguished in general depravity. An eminent historian, who lived at that time, informs us, that venality universally prevailed amongst the Romans; and a writer who flourished soon after, observes, that luxury and dissipation had encumbered almost all so much with debt, that they beheld with a degree of complacency the prospect of civil war and confusion.

The extreme degree of profligacy at which the Romans were now arrived is in nothing more evident, than that this age gave birth to the most horrible conspiracy which occurs in the annals of humankind, viz. that of Catiline. This was not the project of a few desperate and abandoned individuals, but of a number of men of the most illustrious rank in the state; and it appears beyond doubt, that Julius Caesar was accessary to the design, which was no less than to extirpate the Senate, divide amongst themselves both the public and private treasures, and set Rome on fire. The causes which prompted to this tremendous project, it is generally admitted, were luxury, prodigality, irreligion, a total corruption of manners, and above all, as the immediate cause, the pressing necessity in which the conspirators were involved by their extreme dissipation.

The enormous debt in which Caesar himself was early involved, countenances an opinion that his anxiety to procure the province of Gaul proceeded chiefly from this cause. But during nine years in which he held that province, he acquired such riches as must have rendered him, without competition, the most opulent person in the state. If nothing more, therefore, than a (58) splendid establishment had been the object of his pursuit, he had attained to the summit of his wishes. But when we find him persevering in a plan of aggrandizement beyond this period of his fortunes, we can ascribe his conduct to no other motive than that of outrageous ambition. He projected the building of a new Forum at Rome, for the ground only of which he was to pay 800,000 pounds; he raised legions in Gaul at his own charges: he promised such entertainments to the people as had never been known at Rome from the foundation of the city. All these circumstances evince some latent design of procuring such a popularity as might give him an uncontrolled influence in the management of public affairs. Pompey, we are told, was wont to say, that Caesar not being able, with all his riches, to fulfil the promises which he had made, wished to throw everything into confusion. There may have been some foundation for this remark: but the opinion of Cicero is more probable, that Caesar’s mind was seduced with the temptations of chimerical glory. It is observable that neither Cicero nor Pompey intimates any suspicion that Caesar was apprehensive of being impeached for his conduct, had he returned to Rome in a private station. Yet, that there was reason for such an apprehension, the positive declaration of L. Domitius leaves little room to doubt: especially when we consider the number of enemies that Caesar had in the Senate, and the coolness of his former friend Pompey ever after the death of Julia. The proposed impeachment was founded upon a notorious charge of prosecuting measures destructive of the interests of the commonwealth, and tending ultimately to an object incompatible with public freedom. Indeed, considering the extreme corruption which prevailed amongst the Romans at this time, it is more than probable that Caesar would have been acquitted of the charge, but at such an expense as must have stripped him of all his riches, and placed him again in a situation ready to attempt a disturbance of the public tranquillity. For it is said, that he purchased the friendship of Curio, at the commencement of the civil war, with a bribe little short of half a million sterling.

Whatever Caesar’s private motive may have been for taking arms against his country, he embarked in an enterprise of a nature the most dangerous: and had Pompey conducted himself in any degree suitable to the reputation which he had formerly acquired, the contest would in all probability have terminated in favour of public freedom. But by dilatory measures in the beginning, by imprudently withdrawing his army from Italy into a distant province, and by not pursuing the advantage he had gained by the vigorous repulse of Caesar’s troops in their attack upon his camp, this commander lost every opportunity of extinguishing a war which was to determine the fate, and even the existence, of the Republic. It was accordingly determined on the plains of Pharsalia, where Caesar obtained a victory which was not more decisive than unexpected. He was now no longer amenable either to the tribunal of the Senate or the power of the laws, but triumphed at once over his enemies and the constitution of his country.

It is to the honour of Caesar, that when he had obtained the supreme power, he exercised it with a degree of moderation beyond what was generally expected by those who had fought on the side of the Republic. Of his private life either before or after this period, little is transmitted in history. Henceforth, however, he seems to have lived chiefly at Rome, near which he had a small villa, upon an eminence, commanding a beautiful prospect. His time was almost entirely occupied with public affairs, in the management of which, though he employed many agents, he appears to have had none in the character of actual minister. He was in general easy of access: but Cicero, in a letter to a friend, complains of having been treated with the indignity of waiting a considerable time amongst a crowd in an anti-chamber, before he could have an audience. The elevation of Caesar placed him not above discharging reciprocally the social duties in the intercourse of life. He returned the visits of those who waited upon him, and would sup at their houses. At table, and in the use of wine, he was habitually temperate. Upon the whole, he added nothing to his own happiness by all the dangers, the fatigues, and the perpetual anxiety which he had incurred in the pursuit of unlimited power. His health was greatly impaired: his former cheerfulness of temper, though not his magnanimity, appears to have forsaken him; and we behold in his fate a memorable example of illustrious talents rendered, by inordinate ambition, destructive to himself, and irretrievably pernicious to his country.

From beholding the ruin of the Roman Republic, after intestine divisions, and the distractions of civil war, it will afford some relief to take a view of the progress of literature, which flourished even during those calamities.

The commencement of literature in Rome is to be dated from the reduction of the Grecian States, when the conquerors imported into their own country the valuable productions of the Greek language, and the first essay of Roman genius was in dramatic composition. Livius Andronicus, who flourished about 240 years before the Christian aera, formed the Fescennine verses into a kind of regular drama, upon the model of the Greeks. He was followed some time after by Ennius, who, besides dramatic and other compositions, (60) wrote the annals of the Roman Republic in heroic verse. His style, like that of Andronicus, was rough and unpolished, in conformity to the language of those times; but for grandeur of sentiment and energy of expression, he was admired by the greatest poets in the subsequent ages. Other writers of distinguished reputation in the dramatic department were Naevius, Pacuvius, Plautus, Afranius, Caecilius, Terence, Accius, etc. Accius and Pacuvius are mentioned by Quintilian as writers of extraordinary merit. Of twenty-five comedies written by Plautus, the number transmitted to posterity is nineteen; and of a hundred and eight which Terence is said to have translated from Menander, there now remain only six. Excepting a few inconsiderable fragments, the writings of all the other authors have perished. The early period of Roman literature was distinguished for the introduction of satire by Lucilius, an author celebrated for writing with remarkable ease, but whose compositions, in the opinion of Horace, though Quintilian thinks otherwise, were debased with a mixture of feculency. Whatever may have been their merit, they also have perished, with the works of a number of orators, who adorned the advancing state of letters in the Roman Republic. It is observable, that during this whole period, of near two centuries and a half, there appeared not one historian of eminence sufficient to preserve his name from oblivion.

Julius Caesar himself is one of the most eminent writers of the age in which he lived. His commentaries on the Gallic and Civil Wars are written with a purity, precision, and perspicuity, which command approbation. They are elegant without affectation, and beautiful without ornament. Of the two books which he composed on Analogy, and those under the title of Anti-Cato, scarcely any fragment is preserved; but we may be assured of the justness of the observations on language, which were made by an author so much distinguished by the excellence of his own compositions. His poem entitled The Journey, which was probably an entertaining narrative, is likewise totally lost.

The most illustrious prose writer of this or any other age is M. Tullius Cicero; and as his life is copiously related in biographical works, it will be sufficient to mention his writings. From his earliest years, he applied himself with unremitting assiduity to the cultivation of literature, and, whilst he was yet a boy, wrote a poem, called Glaucus Pontius, which was extant in Plutarch’s time. Amongst his juvenile productions was a translation into Latin verse, of Aratus on the Phaenomena of the Heavens; of which many fragments are still extant. He also published a poem of the heroic kind, in honour of his countryman C. Marius, who was born at Arpinum, the birth-place of Cicero. (61) This production was greatly admired by Atticus; and old Scaevola was so much pleased with it, that in an epigram written on the subject, he declares that it would live as long as the Roman name and learning subsisted. From a little specimen which remains of it, describing a memorable omen given to Marina from an oak at Arpinum, there is reason to believe that his poetical genius was scarcely inferior to his oratorical, had it been cultivated with equal industry. He published another poem called Limon, of which Donatus has preserved four lines in the life of Terence, in praise of the elegance and purity of that poet’s style. He composed in the Greek language, and in the style and manner of Isocrates, a Commentary or Memoirs of the Transactions of his Consulship. This he sent to Atticus, with a desire, if he approved it, to publish it in Athens and the cities of Greece. He sent a copy of it likewise to Posidonius of Rhodes, and requested of him to undertake the same subject in a more elegant and masterly manner. But the latter returned for answer, that, instead of being encouraged to write by the perusal of his tract, he was quite deterred from attempting it.

Upon the plan of those Memoirs, he afterwards composed a Latin poem in three books, in which he carried down the history to the end of his exile, but did not publish it for several years, from motives of delicacy. The three books were severally inscribed to the three Muses; but of this work there now remain only a few fragments, scattered in different parts of his other writings. He published, about the same time, a collection of the principal speeches which he had made in his consulship, under the title of his Consular Orations. They consisted originally of twelve; but four are entirely lost, and some of the rest are imperfect. He now published also, in Latin verse, a translation of the Prognostics of Aratus, of which work no more than two or three small fragments now remain. A few years after, he put the last hand to his Dialogues upon the Character and Idea of the perfect Orator. This admirable work remains entire; a monument both of the astonishing industry and transcendent abilities of its author. At his Cuman villa, he next began a Treatise on Politics, or on the best State of a City, and the Duties of a Citizen. He calls it a great and a laborious work, yet worthy of his pains, if he could succeed in it. This likewise was written in the form of a dialogue, in which the speakers were Scipio, Laelius, Philus, Manilius, and other great persons in the former times of the Republic. It was comprised in six books, and survived him for several ages, though it is now unfortunately lost. From the fragments which remain, it appears to have been a masterly production, in which all the important questions in politics and morality were discussed with elegance and accuracy.

(62) Amidst all the anxiety for the interests of the Republic, which occupied the thoughts of this celebrated personage, he yet found leisure to write several philosophical tracts, which still subsist, to the gratification of the literary world. He composed a treatise on the Nature of the Gods, in three books, containing a comprehensive view of religion, faith, oaths, ceremonies, etc. In elucidating this important subject, he not only delivers the opinions of all the philosophers who had written anything concerning it, but weighs and compares attentively all the arguments with each other; forming upon the whole such a rational and perfect system of natural religion, as never before was presented to the consideration of mankind, and approaching nearly to revelation. He now likewise composed in two books, a discourse on Divination, in which he discusses at large all the arguments that may be advanced for and against the actual existence of such a species of knowledge. Like the preceding works, it is written in the form of dialogue, and in which the chief speaker is Laelius. The same period gave birth to his treatise on Old Age, called Cato Major; and to that on Friendship, written also in dialogue, and in which the chief speaker is Laelius. This book, considered merely as an essay, is one of the most entertaining productions of ancient times; but, beheld as a picture drawn from life, exhibiting the real characters and sentiments of men of the first distinction for virtue and wisdom in the Roman Republic, it becomes doubly interesting to every reader of observation and taste. Cicero now also wrote his discourse on Fate, which was the subject of a conversation with Hirtius, in his villa near Puteoli; and he executed about the same time a translation of Plato’s celebrated Dialogue, called Timaeus, on the nature and origin of the universe. He was employing himself also on a history of his own times, or rather of his own conduct; full of free and severe reflections on those who had abused their power to the oppression of the Republic. Dion Cassius says, that he delivered this book sealed up to his son, with strict orders not to read or publish it till after his death; but from this time he never saw his son, and it is probable that he left the work unfinished. Afterwards, however, some copies of it were circulated; from which his commentator, Asconius, has quoted several particulars.

During a voyage which he undertook to Sicily, he wrote his treatise on Topics, or the Art of finding Arguments on any Question. This was an abstract from Aristotle’s treatise on the same subject; and though he had neither Aristotle nor any other book to assist him, he drew it up from his memory, and finished it as he sailed along the coast of Calabria. The last (63) work composed by Cicero appears to have been his Offices, written for the use of his son, to whom it is addressed. This treatise contains a system of moral conduct, founded upon the noblest principles of human action, and recommended by arguments drawn from the purest sources of philosophy.

Such are the literary productions of this extraordinary man, whose comprehensive understanding enabled him to conduct with superior ability the most abstruse disquisitions into moral and metaphysical science. Born in an age posterior to Socrates and Plato, he could not anticipate the principles inculcated by those divine philosophers, but he is justly entitled to the praise, not only of having prosecuted with unerring judgment the steps which they trod before him, but of carrying his researches to greater extent into the most difficult regions of philosophy. This too he had the merit to perform, neither in the station of a private citizen, nor in the leisure of academic retirement, but in the bustle of public life, amidst the almost constant exertions of the bar, the employment of the magistrate, the duty of the senator, and the incessant cares of the statesman; through a period likewise chequered with domestic afflictions and fatal commotions in the Republic. As a philosopher, his mind appears to have been clear, capacious, penetrating, and insatiable of knowledge. As a writer, he was endowed with every talent that could captivate either the judgment or taste. His researches were continually employed on subjects of the greatest utility to mankind, and those often such as extended beyond the narrow bounds of temporal existence. The being of a God, the immortality of the soul, a future state of rewards and punishments, and the eternal distinction of good and evil; these were in general the great objects of his philosophical enquiries, and he has placed them in a more convincing point of view than they ever were before exhibited to the pagan world. The variety and force of the arguments which he advances, the splendour of his diction, and the zeal with which he endeavours to excite the love and admiration of virtue, all conspire to place his character, as a philosophical writer, including likewise his incomparable eloquence, on the summit of human celebrity.

The form of dialogue, so much used by Cicero, he doubtless adopted in imitation of Plato, who probably took the hint of it from the colloquial method of instruction practised by Socrates. In the early stage of philosophical enquiry, this mode of composition was well adapted, if not to the discovery, at least to the confirmation of moral truth; especially as the practice was then not uncommon, for speculative men to converse together on important subjects, for mutual information. In treating of any subject respecting which the different sects of philosophers differed (64) from each other in point of sentiment, no kind of composition could be more happily suited than dialogue, as it gave alternately full scope to the arguments of the various disputants. It required, however, that the writer should exert his understanding with equal impartiality and acuteness on the different sides of the question; as otherwise he might betray a cause under the appearance of defending it. In all the dialogues of Cicero, he manages the arguments of the several disputants in a manner not only the most fair and interesting, but also such as leads to the most probable and rational conclusion.

After enumerating the various tracts composed and published by Cicero, we have now to mention his Letters, which, though not written for publication, deserve to be ranked among the most interesting remains of Roman literature. The number of such as are addressed to different correspondents is considerable, but those to Atticus alone, his confidential friend, amount to upwards of four hundred; among which are many of great length. They are all written in the genuine spirit of the most approved epistolary composition; uniting familiarity with elevation, and ease with elegance. They display in a beautiful light the author’s character in the social relations of life; as a warm friend, a zealous patron, a tender husband, an affectionate brother, an indulgent father, and a kind master. Beholding them in a more extensive view, they exhibit an ardent love of liberty and the constitution of his country: they discover a mind strongly actuated with the principles of virtue and reason; and while they abound in sentiments the most judicious and philosophical, they are occasionally blended with the charms of wit, and agreeable effusions of pleasantry. What is likewise no small addition to their merit, they contain much interesting description of private life, with a variety of information relative to public transactions and characters of that age. It appears from Cicero’s correspondence, that there was at that time such a number of illustrious Romans, as never before existed in any one period of the Republic. If ever, therefore, the authority of men the most respectable for virtue, rank, and abilities, could have availed to overawe the first attempts at a violation of public liberty, it must have been at this period; for the dignity of the Roman senate was now in the zenith of its splendour.

Cicero has often been accused of excessive vanity, and of claiming an unwarranted superiority due to his extraordinary talents. However, anyone who reads his letters to Atticus must admit that this accusation appears to be unfounded. In those excellent works, even though he presents the strongest arguments for and against various subjects—as only the sharpest mind could do—carefully weighs them, and draws the most reasonable conclusions, he also shows such a humility regarding his own opinions that he submits completely to the judgment and guidance of his friend. This modesty is quite inconsistent with arrogance, for the arrogant typically cling to their own opinions, especially when it comes to matters of intellect.

It is hard to decide whether Cicero appears greater or more amiable in his letters. What is clear is that his contemporaries viewed him both ways—and to the highest degree. From this, we might conclude that the great poets of the following age must have suppressed their own generosity and discernment when, out of flattery to Augustus—who would have been offended by Cicero's praise or even the mention of his name—they so deliberately avoided Cicero as a subject that they barely hinted at the existence of this immortal orator and philosopher. Livy, though, seems to have given him some recognition; but it was only after the Caesars' line had ended that Cicero received the full and unanimous applause of unbiased posterity. Quintilian so admired his writings that he considered enjoying them a definite sign of good taste and judgment in literature. *Ille se profecisse sciat, cui Cicero valde placebit.*[105]

This period also saw M. Terentius Varro, the renowned Roman grammarian and the Nestor of ancient learning. The first record of him is as lieutenant to Pompey in the campaign against the pirates, during which he won a naval crown. During the civil wars, he sided with the Republic and was captured by Caesar; he was proscribed by Caesar but received a pardon. Of all the ancients, he earned the greatest fame for his broad erudition, and he showed the same effort in sharing knowledge as he did in learning it. He originally wrote no fewer than five hundred volumes, all now lost except for the treatise *De Lingua Latina* and one *De Re Rustica*. Of the former, which is addressed to Cicero, the first three books are also missing. From the start of the fourth book, it appears that these all dealt with etymology. The first contained criticisms of etymology, the second its defenses, and the third further observations. He then investigates the origins of Latin words.

In the fourth book, he traces words connected to place; in the fifth, those linked to time; and in the sixth, the origins of both, as seen in poets' works. The seventh book deals with declension, where the author presents a thorough and detailed study with many sharp and deep observations about how Latin nouns are formed and their natural changes from the nominative. In the eighth, he examines the nature and limits of usage and analogy in language, and in the ninth—the last on this subject—he considers what is the opposite of analogy, namely, anomaly. The clarity and precision Varro shows in this work are most impressive, and justify his reputation as the most learned of the Latin grammarians. Besides missing the first three books, several gaps appear in the others, but luckily these do not affect the main flow of his argument, though they do interrupt the illustrations. Notably, Varro writes *quom* for *quum*, *heis* for *his*, and generally *queis* for *quibus*. Since this usage was already somewhat old-fashioned in his time, we must credit his persistence to his belief in its grammatical correctness, not to any educational bias or desire to be seen as unique. Since Varro does not mention Caesar’s treatise on Analogy and began his own writings much earlier, it is likely that Caesar’s work was later, and thus, these two authorities disagreed at least in some aspects.

Varro’s treatise *De Re Rustica* was written at the request of a friend who, after purchasing some land, asked Varro for advice regarding farming and all aspects of rural life. Though Varro was then in his eightieth year, he writes with the energy, though not the frivolity, of youth, and begins by invoking, not the Muses as Homer and Ennius do, but the twelve deities most associated with agriculture. According to Varro, more than fifty Greek writers had covered this topic in prose, including Hesiod and Menecrates the Ephesian in verse, excluding many Roman writers and Mago the Carthaginian, who wrote in Punic. Varro’s work is in three books: the first on agriculture, the second on raising cattle, and the third on fattening animals for consumption. In the last, there is a striking example of custom and fashion overruling taste, where he explains the best way to fatten rats.

Quintilian tells us that Varro also wrote satires in various forms of verse. One cannot see the many fragments of this great author without profound regret at the loss of the vast store of information and wise observations he spent his eighty-eight years compiling—a life almost wholly dedicated to literature. St. Augustine wisely remarked that it is amazing how Varro, who read so many books, could have had time to write so many volumes—and vice versa—and still acquire so much learning.

Catullus is said to have been born in Verona to respectable parents; he and his father were both on friendly terms with Julius Caesar. He was brought to Rome by Mallius, to whom several of his epigrams are addressed. His gentle manners and dedication to study made him well-liked; he also gained the support of Cicero. When he began to be known as a poet, all these advantages naturally enhanced his reputation for cleverness, and other leading figures of his time praised his genius. While not all his poems have survived, enough remain to judge his literary abilities.

Quintilian and Diomed the grammarian have classed Catullus among the iambic poets, while others count him as a lyric poet. In truth, he belongs in both categories, but as his verse is mostly iambic, the first designation is more correct. The chief merit of Catullus’s iambics lies in their straightforwardness of thought and style. The ideas, however, are often trivial and, more seriously, he indulges in blatant obscenity. To defend this, he offers the following couplet, claiming that a good poet ought to be chaste in his life but that his verses need not be.

> Nam castum esse decet pium poetam  
> Ipsum: versiculos nihil necesse est.

This idea has been quoted by those who wished to follow Catullus’s example; but if ever such a practice is acceptable, it is only when the poet is portraying an immoral character, which is not the case with Catullus. A better excuse would have been the customs of the times; even Horace, writing only a few years later, allowed some of the same faults to spoil his work.

Much has been made of Catullus’s satire on Caesar, which resulted merely in an invitation to a meal at Caesar’s house. It hardly deserved any resentment at all; if it did, it was for Catullus’s boldness, not the novelty of his lampoon. There are two poems on the topic—the twenty-ninth and the fifty-seventh—in which Caesar is paired with Mamurra, a Roman knight who grew wealthy in the Gallic war. To honor Catullus’s gratitude, we might suppose the latter is the one referenced by historians; but as poetry, neither deserves much attention. The fifty-seventh is little more than a crude repetition of the gossip—fair or not—about Caesar, which was common, even in the Senate, after his return from Bithynia. Caesar had endured such jeers for over thirty years; after so long, any sensitivity to slander must surely have waned or vanished. The other poem is similar, but longer, adding common rough jokes of Roman soldiers—almost word for word the jests that Caesar’s own legions, though devoted to him, loudly made in the streets of Rome during his triumph. It is better seen as a production of Saturnalian license than of poetry. Overall, the sharpness in Catullus’s Iambics is due not to cleverness of thought, but to the rudeness of subject or expression.

Catullus’s descriptive poems are the best and reveal a lively imagination. Notably, he translated Sappho’s famous ode:

> Ille mi par esse Deo videtur,  
> me, etc.

This ode is rendered with vigor and grace, though it is incomplete; the final stanza appears inauthentic. Catullus’s epigrams earn little praise for wit or substance, and overall his reputation as a poet seems somewhat overstated. He reportedly died around the age of thirty.

Lucretius is the author of the famous six-book poem *De Rerum Natura*, a subject addressed centuries before by Empedocles, the philosopher-poet from Agrigentum. Lucretius ardently supported Democritus and the Epicurean school, whose beliefs in the eternity of matter, the physical nature of the soul, and the denial of an afterlife with rewards and punishments he presents as if proven with mathematical certainty. Deeply convinced by his master’s views and unaware of the actual workings of the universe, he tries to draw from natural phenomena conclusions that not only lack solid reasoning, but also contradict the best authorities in philosophy. Though we reject his speculative ideas as debasing to human nature and a threat to the most important interests of humanity, we must admit he pursues his bold theories with unusual skill. Setting aside its rambling nature and occasional obscurity, the poem is impressive. Its style is lofty, and the verse generally melodious. The use of archaic words gives it a gravity suited to deep topics, while the frequent breakdown of diphthongs brings a resonance and musicality to Latin reminiscent of Greek.

While working on this poem, Lucretius descended into madness, reportedly caused by a love-potion given by his wife, Lucilia. During intervals of sanity, he devoted himself to the project; soon after finishing, he took his own life at age forty-three. This tragic end, likely due to his madness, was explained by friends and admirers as resulting from his sorrow at the exile of his friend Memmius or from the chaos of the times. But Epicurus’s teachings, being flawed and opposed to real resignation and courage, arguably encourage such acts in dire situations. Atticus, Cicero’s famous correspondent, a few years later made a similar end, starving himself while ill with a lingering disease.

It is said that Cicero edited Lucretius’s poem after his death, and some atheists cite this as proof that Cicero supported its ideas. But no real inference can be made from this about Cicero’s beliefs. Though Cicero was already well-versed in Epicurean principles, he may still have enjoyed reading a work that set them out forcefully in fine poetry, especially since the subject would interest his friend Atticus and could spark discussion or letters between them. The poem could only have been submitted to Cicero for comments on style, for if he were required to judge its doctrines, he would have had to alter it so thoroughly as to ruin its system. Though he may have appreciated the show of scholarship and passionate rhetoric, he must have disapproved of the ideas it promotes. According to the best sources, Lucretius died in year 701 after the founding of Rome, when Pompey was consul for the third time. Cicero lived several years longer and, in his last two years, wrote the great works that directly oppose the Epicurean system. Thus, Cicero’s review of the poem does not support Lucretius’s philosophy; instead, because Cicero had the opportunity to reflect before producing his own thorough refutation, it stands as a silent but strong condemnation of Epicurean views. Nevertheless, Lucretius’s poem is seen as the foundation of atheism—an atheism that, while arrogantly claiming support from reason, is in fact rejected by both reason and nature.

Many other writers flourished in this era, but their works are now lost. Sallust was at this time working on his historical writings, but as these were not yet completed, they will be discussed in the next section of the review.

## D. OCTAVIUS CAESAR AUGUSTUS.

### (71)

I. That the family of the Octavii was of the first distinction in Velitrae 106, is rendered evident by many circumstances. For in the most frequented part of the town, there was, not long since, a street named the Octavian; and an altar was to be seen, consecrated to one Octavius, who being chosen general in a war with some neighbouring people, the enemy making a sudden attack, while he was sacrificing to Mars, he immediately snatched the entrails of the victim from off the fire, and offered them half raw upon the altar; after which, marching out to battle, he returned victorious. This incident gave rise to a law, by which it was enacted, that in all future times the entrails should be offered to Mars in the same manner; and the rest of the victim be carried to the Octavii.

II. This family, as well as several in Rome, was admitted into the senate by Tarquinius Priscus, and soon afterwards placed by Servius Tullius among the patricians; but in process of time it transferred itself to the plebeian order, and, after the lapse of a long interval, was restored by Julius Caesar to the rank of patricians. The first person of the family raised by the suffrages of the people to the magistracy, was Caius Rufus. He obtained the quaestorship, and had two sons, Cneius and Caius; from whom are descended the two branches of the Octavian family, which have had very different fortunes. For Cneius, and his descendants in uninterrupted succession, held all the highest offices of the state; whilst Caius and his posterity, whether from their circumstances or their choice, remained in the equestrian order until the father of Augustus. The great-grandfather of Augustus served as a military tribune in the second Punic war in Sicily, under the command of Aemilius Pappus. His grandfather contented himself with bearing the public offices of his own municipality, and grew old in the tranquil enjoyment of an ample patrimony. Such is the account given (72) by different authors. Augustus himself, however, tells us nothing more than that he was descended of an equestrian family, both ancient and rich, of which his father was the first who obtained the rank of senator. Mark Antony upbraidingly tells him that his great-grandfather was a freedman of the territory of Thurium 107, and a rope-maker, and his grandfather a usurer. This is all the information I have any where met with, respecting the ancestors of Augustus by the father’s side.

III. His father Caius Octavius was, from his earliest years, a person both of opulence and distinction: for which reason I am surprised at those who say that he was a money-dealer 108, and was employed in scattering bribes, and canvassing for the candidates at elections, in the Campus Martius. For being bred up in all the affluence of a great estate, he attained with ease to honourable posts, and discharged the duties of them with much distinction. After his praetorship, he obtained by lot the province of Macedonia; in his way to which he cut off some banditti, the relics of the armies of Spartacus and Catiline, who had possessed themselves of the territory of Thurium; having received from the senate an extraordinary commission for that purpose. In his government of the province, he conducted himself with equal justice and resolution; for he defeated the Bessians and Thracians in a great battle, and treated the allies of the republic in such a manner, that there are extant letters from M. Tullius Cicero, in which he advises and exhorts his brother Quintus, who then held the proconsulship of Asia with no great reputation, to imitate the example of his neighbour Octavius, in gaining the affections of the allies of Rome.

IV. After quitting Macedonia, before he could declare himself a candidate for the consulship, he died suddenly, leaving behind him a daughter, the elder Octavia, by Ancharia; and another daughter, Octavia the younger, as well as Augustus, by Atia, who was the daughter of Marcus Atius Balbus, and Julia, sister to Caius Julius Caesar. Balbus was, by the father’s (73) side, of a family who were natives of Aricia 109, and many of whom had been in the senate. By the mother’s side he was nearly related to Pompey the Great; and after he had borne the office of praetor, was one of the twenty commissioners appointed by the Julian law to divide the land in Campania among the people. But Mark Antony, treating with contempt Augustus’s descent even by the mother’s side, says that his great grand-father was of African descent, and at one time kept a perfumer’s shop, and at another, a bake-house, in Aricia. And Cassius of Parma, in a letter, taxes Augustus with being the son not only of a baker, but a usurer. These are his words: “Thou art a lump of thy mother’s meal, which a money-changer of Nerulum taking from the newest bake-house of Aricia, kneaded into some shape, with his hands all discoloured by the fingering of money.”

V. Augustus was born in the consulship of Marcus Tullius Cicero and Caius Antonius 110, upon the ninth of the calends of October [the 23rd September], a little before sunrise, in the quarter of the Palatine Hill 111, and the street called The Ox-Heads 112, where now stands a chapel dedicated to him, and built a little after his death. For, as it is recorded in the proceedings of the senate, when Caius Laetorius, a young man of a patrician family, in pleading before the senators for a lighter sentence, upon his being convicted of adultery, alleged, besides his youth and quality, that he was the possessor, and as it were the guardian, of the ground which the Divine Augustus first touched upon his coming into the world; and entreated that (74) he might find favour, for the sake of that deity, who was in a peculiar manner his; an act of the senate was passed, for the consecration of that part of his house in which Augustus was born.

VI. His nursery is shewn to this day, in a villa belonging to the family, in the suburbs of Velitrae; being a very small place, and much like a pantry. An opinion prevails in the neighbourhood, that he was also born there. Into this place no person presumes to enter, unless upon necessity, and with great devotion, from a belief, for a long time prevalent, that such as rashly enter it are seized with great horror and consternation, which a short while since was confirmed by a remarkable incident. For when a new inhabitant of the house had, either by mere chance, or to try the truth of the report, taken up his lodging in that apartment, in the course of the night, a few hours afterwards, he was thrown out by some sudden violence, he knew not how, and was found in a state of stupefaction, with the coverlid of his bed, before the door of the chamber.

VII. While he was yet an infant, the surname of Thurinus was given him, in memory of the birth-place of his family, or because, soon after he was born, his father Octavius had been successful against the fugitive slaves, in the country near Thurium. That he was surnamed Thurinus, I can affirm upon good foundation, for when a boy, I had a small bronze statue of him, with that name upon it in iron letters, nearly effaced by age, which I presented to the emperor 113, by whom it is now revered amongst the other tutelary deities in his chamber. He is also often called Thurinus contemptuously, by Mark Antony in his letters; to which he makes only this reply: “I am surprised that my former name should be made a subject of reproach.” He afterwards assumed the name of Caius Caesar, and then of Augustus; the former in compliance with the will of his great-uncle, and the latter upon a motion of Munatius Plancus in the senate. For when some proposed to confer upon him the name of Romulus, as being, in a manner, a second founder of the city, it was resolved that he should rather be called Augustus, a surname not only new, but of more dignity, because places devoted to religion, and those in which anything (75) is consecrated by augury, are denominated august, either from the word auctus, signifying augmentation, or ab avium gestu, gustuve, from the flight and feeding of birds; as appears from this verse of Ennius:

When glorious Rome by august augury was built. 114

VIII. He lost his father when he was only four years of age; and, in his twelfth year, pronounced a funeral oration in praise of his grand-mother Julia. Four years afterwards, having assumed the robe of manhood, he was honoured with several military rewards by Caesar in his African triumph, although he took no part in the war, on account of his youth. Upon his uncle’s expedition to Spain against the sons of Pompey, he was followed by his nephew, although he was scarcely recovered from a dangerous sickness; and after being shipwrecked at sea, and travelling with very few attendants through roads that were infested with the enemy, he at last came up with him. This activity gave great satisfaction to his uncle, who soon conceived an increasing affection for him, on account of such indications of character. After the subjugation of Spain, while Caesar was meditating an expedition against the Dacians and Parthians, he was sent before him to Apollonia, where he applied himself to his studies; until receiving intelligence that his uncle was murdered, and that he was appointed his heir, he hesitated for some time whether he should call to his aid the legions stationed in the neighbourhood; but he abandoned the design as rash and premature. However, returning to Rome, he took possession of his inheritance, although his mother was apprehensive that such a measure might be attended with danger, and his step-father, Marcius Philippus, a man of consular rank, very earnestly dissuaded him from it. From this time, collecting together a strong military force, he first held the government in conjunction with Mark Antony and Marcus Lepidus, then with Antony only, for nearly twelve years, and at last in his own hands during a period of four and forty.

IX. Having thus given a very short summary of his life, I shall prosecute the several parts of it, not in order of time, but arranging his acts into distinct classes, for the sake of (76) perspicuity. He was engaged in five civil wars, namely those of Modena, Philippi, Perugia, Sicily, and Actium; the first and last of which were against Antony, and the second against Brutus and Cassius; the third against Lucius Antonius, the triumvir’s brother, and the fourth against Sextus Pompeius, the son of Cneius Pompeius.

X. The motive which gave rise to all these wars was the opinion he entertained that both his honour and interest were concerned in revenging the murder of his uncle, and maintaining the state of affairs he had established. Immediately after his return from Apollonia, he formed the design of taking forcible and unexpected measures against Brutus and Cassius; but they having foreseen the danger and made their escape, he resolved to proceed against them by an appeal to the laws in their absence, and impeach them for the murder. In the mean time, those whose province it was to prepare the sports in honour of Caesar’s last victory in the civil war, not daring to do it, he undertook it himself. And that he might carry into effect his other designs with greater authority, he declared himself a candidate in the room of a tribune of the people who happened to die at that time, although he was of a patrician family, and had not yet been in the senate. But the consul, Mark Antony, from whom he had expected the greatest assistance, opposing him in his suit, and even refusing to do him so much as common justice, unless gratified with a large bribe, he went over to the party of the nobles, to whom he perceived Sylla to be odious, chiefly for endeavouring to drive Decius Brutus, whom he besieged in the town of Modena, out of the province, which had been given him by Caesar, and confirmed to him by the senate. At the instigation of persons about him, he engaged some ruffians to murder his antagonist; but the plot being discovered, and dreading a similar attempt upon himself, he gained over Caesar’s veteran soldiers, by distributing among them all the money he could collect. Being now commissioned by the senate to command the troops he had gathered, with the rank of praetor, and in conjunction with Hirtius and Pansa, who had accepted the consulship, to carry assistance to Decius Brutus, he put an end to the war by two battles in three months. Antony writes, that in the former of these he ran away, and two days afterwards made his appearance (77) without his general’s cloak and his horse. In the last battle, however, it is certain that he performed the part not only of a general, but a soldier; for, in the heat of the battle; when the standard-bearer of his legion was severely wounded, he took the eagle upon his shoulders, and carried it a long time.

XI. In this war 115, Hirtius being slain in battle, and Pansa dying a short time afterwards of a wound, a report was circulated that they both were killed through his means, in order that, when Antony fled, the republic having lost its consuls, he might have the victorious armies entirely at his own command. The death of Pansa was so fully believed to have been caused by undue means, that Glyco, his surgeon, was placed in custody, on a suspicion of having poisoned his wound. And to this, Aquilius Niger adds, that he killed Hirtius, the other consul, in the confusion of the battle, with his own hands.

XII. But upon intelligence that Antony, after his defeat, had been received by Marcus Lepidus, and that the rest of the generals and armies had all declared for the senate, he, without any hesitation, deserted from the party of the nobles; alleging as an excuse for his conduct, the actions and sayings of several amongst them; for some said, “he was a mere boy,” and others threw out, “that he ought to be promoted to honours, and cut off,” to avoid the making any suitable acknowledgment either to him or the veteran legions. And the more to testify his regret for having before attached himself to the other faction, he fined the Nursini in a large sum of money, which they were unable to pay, and then expelled them from the town, for having inscribed upon a monument, erected at the public charge to their countrymen who were slain in the battle of Modena, “That they fell in the cause of liberty.”

XIII. Having entered into a confederacy with Antony and Lepidus, he brought the war at Philippi to an end in two battles, although he was at that time weak, and suffering from sickness 116. In the first battle he was driven from his camp, (78) and with some difficulty made his escape to the wing of the army commanded by Antony. And now, intoxicated with success, he sent the head of Brutus 117 to be cast at the foot of Caesar’s statue, and treated the most illustrious of the prisoners not only with cruelty, but with abusive language; insomuch that he is said to have answered one of them who humbly intreated that at least he might not remain unburied, “That will be in the power of the birds.” Two others, father and son, who begged for their lives, he ordered to cast lots which of them should live, or settle it between themselves by the sword; and was a spectator of both their deaths: for the father offering his life to save his son, and being accordingly executed, the son likewise killed himself upon the spot. On this account, the rest of the prisoners, and amongst them Marcus Favonius, Cato’s rival, being led up in fetters, after they had saluted Antony, the general, with much respect, reviled Octavius in the foulest language. After this victory, dividing between them the offices of the state, Mark Antony 118 undertook to restore order in the east, while Caesar conducted the veteran soldiers back to Italy, and settled them in colonies on the lands belonging to the municipalities. But he had the misfortune to please neither the soldiers nor the owners of the lands; one party complaining of the injustice done them, in being violently ejected from their possessions, and the other, that they were not rewarded according to their merit. 119

XIV. At this time he obliged Lucius Antony, who, presuming upon his own authority as consul, and his brother’s power, was raising new commotions, to fly to Perugia, and forced him, by famine, to surrender at last, although not without having been exposed to great hazards, both before the war and during its continuance. For a common soldier having got into the seats of the equestrian order in the theatre, at the public spectacles, Caesar ordered him to be removed by an officer; and a rumour being thence spread by his enemies, that he had (79) put the man to death by torture, the soldiers flocked together so much enraged, that he narrowly escaped with his life. The only thing that saved him, was the sudden appearance of the man, safe and sound, no violence having been offered him. And whilst he was sacrificing under the walls of Perugia, he nearly fell into the hands of a body of gladiators, who sallied out of the town.

XV. After the taking of Perugia 120, he sentenced a great number of the prisoners to death, making only one reply to all who implored pardon, or endeavoured to excuse themselves, “You must die.” Some authors write, that three hundred of the two orders, selected from the rest, were slaughtered, like victims, before an altar raised to Julius Caesar, upon the ides of March 121. Nay, there are some who relate, that he entered upon the war with no other view, than that his secret enemies, and those whom fear more than affection kept quiet, might be detected, by declaring themselves, now they had an opportunity, with Lucius Antony at their head; and that having defeated them, and confiscated their estates, he might be enabled to fulfil his promises to the veteran soldiers.

XVI. He soon commenced the Sicilian war, but it was protracted by various delays during a long period 122; at one time for the purpose of repairing his fleets, which he lost twice by storm, even in the summer; at another, while patching up a peace, to which he was forced by the clamours of the people, in consequence of a famine occasioned by Pompey’s cutting off the supply of corn by sea. But at last, having built a new fleet, and obtained twenty thousand manumitted slaves 123, who were given him for the oar, he formed the Julian harbour at Baiae, by letting the sea into the Lucrine and Avernian lakes; and having exercised his forces there during the whole winter, he defeated Pompey betwixt Mylae and Naulochus; although (80) just as the engagement commenced, he suddenly fell into such a profound sleep, that his friends were obliged to wake him to give the signal. This, I suppose, gave occasion for Antony’s reproach: “You were not able to take a clear view of the fleet, when drawn up in line of battle, but lay stupidly upon your back, gazing at the sky; nor did you get up and let your men see you, until Marcus Agrippa had forced the enemies’ ships to sheer off.” Others imputed to him both a saying and an action which were indefensible; for, upon the loss of his fleets by storm, he is reported to have said: “I will conquer in spite of Neptune;” and at the next Circensian games, he would not suffer the statue of that God to be carried in procession as usual. Indeed he scarcely ever ran more or greater risks in any of his wars than in this. Having transported part of his army to Sicily, and being on his return for the rest, he was unexpectedly attacked by Demochares and Apollophanes, Pompey’s admirals, from whom he escaped with great difficulty, and with one ship only. Likewise, as he was travelling on foot through the Locrian territory to Rhegium, seeing two of Pompey’s vessels passing by that coast, and supposing them to be his own, he went down to the shore, and was very nearly taken prisoner. On this occasion, as he was making his escape by some bye-ways, a slave belonging to Aemilius Paulus, who accompanied him, owing him a grudge for the proscription of Paulus, the father of Aemilius, and thinking he had now an opportunity of revenging it, attempted to assassinate him. After the defeat of Pompey, one of his colleagues 124, Marcus Lepidus, whom he had summoned to his aid from Africa, affecting great superiority, because he was at the head of twenty legions, and claiming for himself the principal management of affairs in a threatening manner, he divested him of his command, but, upon his humble submission, granted him his life, but banished him for life to Circeii.

XVII. The alliance between him and Antony, which had always been precarious, often interrupted, and ill cemented by repeated reconciliations, he at last entirely dissolved. And to make it known to the world how far Antony had degenerated from patriotic feelings, he caused a will of his, which had been left at Rome, and in which he had nominated Cleopatra’s children, amongst others, as his heirs, to be opened and read in an assembly of the people. Yet upon his being declared an enemy, he sent to him all his relations and friends, among whom were Caius Sosius and Titus Domitius, at that time consuls. He likewise spoke favourably in public of the people of Bologna, for joining in the association with the rest of Italy to support his cause, because they had, in former times, been under the protection of the family of the Antonii. And not long afterwards he defeated him in a naval engagement near Actium, which was prolonged to so late an hour, that, after the victory, he was obliged to sleep on board his ship. From Actium he went to the isle of Samoa to winter; but being alarmed with the accounts of a mutiny amongst the soldiers he had selected from the main body of his army sent to Brundisium after the victory, who insisted on their being rewarded for their service and discharged, he returned to Italy. In his passage thither, he encountered two violent storms, the first between the promontories of Peloponnesus and Aetolia, and the other about the Ceraunian mountains; in both which a part of his Liburnian squadron was sunk, the spars and rigging of his own ship carried away, and the rudder broken in pieces. He remained only twenty-seven days at Brundisium, until the demands of the soldiers were settled, and then went, by way of Asia and Syria, to Egypt, where laying siege to Alexandria, whither Antony had fled with Cleopatra, he made himself master of it in a short time. He drove Antony to kill himself, after he had used every effort to obtain conditions of peace, and he saw his corpse 126. Cleopatra he anxiously wished to save for his triumph; and when she was supposed to have been bit to death by an asp, he sent for the Psylli 127 to (82) endeavour to suck out the poison. He allowed them to be buried together in the same grave, and ordered a mausoleum, begun by themselves, to be completed. The eldest of Antony’s two sons by Fulvia he commanded to be taken by force from the statue of Julius Caesar, to which he had fled, after many fruitless supplications for his life, and put him to death. The same fate attended Caesario, Cleopatra’s son by Caesar, as he pretended, who had fled for his life, but was retaken. The children which Antony had by Cleopatra he saved, and brought up and cherished in a manner suitable to their rank, just as if they had been his own relations.

XVIII. At this time he had a desire to see the sarcophagus and body of Alexander the Great, which, for that purpose, were taken out of the cell in which they rested 128; and after viewing them for some time, he paid honours to the memory of that prince, by offering a golden crown, and scattering flowers upon the body 129. Being asked if he wished to see the tombs of the Ptolemies also; he replied, “I wish to see a king, not dead men.” 130 He reduced Egypt into the form of a province and to render it more fertile, and more capable of supplying Rome with corn, he employed his army to scour the canals, into which the Nile, upon its rise, discharges itself; but which during a long series of years had become nearly choked up with mud. To perpetuate the glory of his victory at Actium, he built the city of Nicopolis on that part of the coast, and established games to be celebrated there every five years; enlarging likewise an old temple of Apollo, he ornamented with naval trophies 131 the spot on which he had pitched his camp, and consecrated it to Neptune and Mars.

(83) XIX. He later quashed several riots and uprisings, as well as a number of conspiracies against his life, all of which were uncovered by the confessions of accomplices before they reached the point of action—and others, afterwards. Among these were the plots of the younger Lepidus, Varro Muraena, and Fannius Caepio; then that of Marcus Egnatius; after that, those of Plautius Rufus and Lucius Paulus, his granddaughter’s husband. There was also another led by Lucius Audasius, an old, feeble man, then under prosecution for forgery; as well as one by Asinius Epicadus, a half-Parthian; and, finally, one by Telephus, a prompter of noble ladies. 133–134 He was thus endangered by the schemes of some of the lowest in society. Audasius and Epicadus plotted to abduct his daughter Julia and grandson Agrippa from the islands where they were confined. Telephus, crazed with the belief that the rule of Rome was fated for him, plotted to attack both Octavius and the senate. On another occasion, a soldier’s servant from the Illyrian army slipped past the guards a night and was found standing armed with a hunting dagger at the emperor’s own bedroom door. Whether he was truly mad, or only feigned insanity, remains unknown; torture extracted no confession.

XX. He personally led only two foreign wars: the Dalmatian, when he was still a youth, and, after Antony’s final defeat, the Cantabrian. In the first of these wars, he was wounded—in one engagement, he suffered a contusion on his right knee from a stone, and in another, he was badly hurt in one leg and both arms when a bridge collapsed. 135 He conducted his other wars through his generals, though he sometimes visited the army during the campaigns in Pannonia and Germany, or stayed nearby, travelling from Rome as far as Ravenna, Milan, or Aquileia.

XXI. Nevertheless, he either personally or through his generals conquered Cantabria, Aquitania, and Pannonia, Dalmatia, all of Illyricum, and Rhaetia, 136–138 as well as the two Alpine nations, the Vindelici and the Salassii. 139 He checked Dacian raids by destroying three of their armies along with their generals, and pushed the Germans beyond the Elbe; he relocated two tribes, the Ubii and Sicambri, to Gaul, settling them along the Rhine. He also subdued other nations that had rebelled. He never waged war without just and necessary reason and had so little desire for conquest or personal military glory that he required the chiefs of some barbarian peoples to swear, in the temple of Mars the Avenger, 140 to keep their agreements and honor the peace they had sought. From some, having learned that they valued their men little as hostages, he demanded their women as a new kind of pledge but always allowed them a way to reclaim their hostages if they wished. Even those who repeatedly rebelled with the most treachery, he punished no more harshly than by selling their captives, stipulating they should not serve in neighboring lands nor be freed before thirty years. By his reputation for virtue and moderation, he persuaded even the Indians and Scythians—previously known to Rome only by rumor—to seek his friendship and that of the Roman people through ambassadors. The Parthians readily yielded his claim to Armenia, restored the standards they had captured from Marcus Crassus and Mark Antony, and sent him hostages as well. Later, when several rivals contended for Armenia’s crown, they would recognize no one not chosen by him.

XXII. The temple of Janus Quirinus, which had been closed only twice since the city's founding until his era, he shut three times in a much shorter period, having established universal peace by land and sea. Twice, he entered the city in Ovation 141—after the Philippi war, and then after the Sicilian war. He also celebrated three curule triumphs 142 for his victories in Dalmatia, Actium, and Alexandria—each triumph lasting three days.

XXIII. In all his wars, he never suffered any notable or disgraceful defeat except twice in Germany, under his generals Lollius and Varus. Lollius' loss was more dishonorable than disastrous, but the defeat of Varus threatened the empire’s very security—three legions, their commander, his lieutenants, and all auxiliaries were lost. When he learned of this calamity, he ordered strict surveillance over the city to prevent unrest, and extended the terms of provincial governors so that the allies could be controlled by familiar administrators. He vowed to hold grand games in honor of Jupiter Optimus Maximus, if the god would restore the state to prosperity—a vow previously made during the Cimbrian and Marsian wars. He is reported to have been so shaken by this disaster that he let his hair and beard grow for several months and would at times strike his head against a doorpost, exclaiming, “Oh, Quintilius Varus! Give me back my legions!” Ever after, he marked the anniversary of this defeat as a day of sorrow and mourning.

XXIV. In military matters, he introduced many reforms, devising some entirely new practices and reviving others that had fallen into disuse. He maintained strict discipline in the army, forbidding even his generals to visit their wives except reluctantly and only in winter. When a Roman knight amputated his two young sons’ thumbs to prevent their serving in the army, Augustus exposed both the man and his property to public sale. But seeing the tax farmers greedily bidding, he assigned the offender instead to a freedman of his own, who removed him to the country but let him remain free. When the tenth legion mutinied, he disgracefully discharged it, and similarly punished some others who insolently demanded release, denying them the rewards usually granted after full service. He decimated cohorts that retreated in battle and fed them on barley. Centurions and even common sentinels who deserted their posts on guard faced death. For other offenses, he subjected them to humiliations, such as standing all day in front of the praetorium—sometimes in mere tunics, lacking their belts—or carrying ten-foot poles or sods of turf.

XXV. After the civil wars ended, he never addressed the troops as “Fellow-soldiers” in speeches or proclamations, but simply as “Soldiers.” Nor did he allow his sons or stepsons in command to address them otherwise, believing the former term conveyed over-familiarity unfit for maintaining military discipline, order, and his own dignity and that of his house. Except in Rome, in cases of fire or possible riots during food shortages, he never used freedmen as soldiers except twice: once to protect the colonies near Illyricum, and once to guard the Rhine. Even though he required wealthy citizens, male and female alike, to surrender their slaves—who then gained immediate freedom—he kept them in separate units, apart from soldiers of higher birth, and armed them differently, too. He awarded military prizes—trappings, collars, and other gold and silver decorations—more often than the more prestigious camp or mural crowns, which he gave sparingly and impartially, at times even to common soldiers. After the Sicilian naval campaign, he gave M. Agrippa a sea-green banner. Those who shared in the honors of a triumph, even if they had served in his campaigns, he did not consider eligible for ordinary rewards, since they themselves held the right to distribute such honors. He regarded nothing as less fitting for a great general than haste or recklessness, and often quoted these proverbs:

Speude bradeos,  
 Hasten slowly,

and

‘Asphalaes gar est’ ameinon, hae erasus strataelataes.’  
 The cautious captain is better than the bold.

And, “That is done fast enough, which is done well enough.”

He also used to say that “no war or battle should be begun unless the hope of gain clearly outweighed the fear of loss. For men who risk much for small reward are like those who fish with a golden hook, the loss of which, if the line breaks, cannot be offset by any fish they might catch.”

XXVI. He obtained public offices before reaching the legal age, and even held some new ones for life. He seized the consulship at age twenty, quartering his legions menacingly near the city and sending envoys to demand it in the army’s name. When the senate hesitated, a centurion named Cornelius, leading the main deputation, threw back his cloak and, showing the hilt of his sword, boldly declared in the senate-house, “This will make him consul, if you refuse.” He held his second consulship nine years later; his third, after just a year; and continued in office each successive year until the eleventh. After that, though often offered the consulship, he always declined—until, after a gap of at least seventeen years, he stood for the twelfth, and two years later, for the thirteenth, so he could introduce his sons Caius and Lucius to public life while bearing Rome’s highest office. In his fifth through eleventh consulships, he served the entire year; in the rest, only nine, six, four, or three months; in his second, just a few hours—for after sitting briefly on the morning of 1 January in his curule chair 143 before Jupiter Capitolinus, he resigned the office and appointed a successor. He did not enter upon all his consulships at Rome—he began his fourth in Asia, his fifth on the island of Samos, and his eighth and ninth at Tarragona. 144

XXVII. He served ten years as one of the triumvirs with authority to settle the commonwealth, during which he at first resisted his colleagues’ plans for a proscription; but, once it began, he prosecuted it with even greater determination. While his colleagues were frequently persuaded to mercy by friends’ pleas, he insisted no one be spared, and even proscribed his own guardian, Caius Toranius, who had once been his father Octavius’s colleague as aedile. 145 According to Junius Saturninus, after the proscriptions were finished, when Marcus Lepidus apologized in the senate for their conduct and promised more leniency going forward, Augustus declared that his only limit in these actions was to be free to do as he pleased. Later, regretting his severity, he advanced T. Vinius Philopoemen to equestrian rank for hiding his patron during proscription. In this post, Augustus incurred much resentment for many reasons. For example, while addressing the troops one day, he saw the Roman knight Pinarius among the soldiers admit some civilians and take notes; he ordered him stabbed before his eyes as a meddler and a spy. His threats so intimidated Tedius Afer, the consul-elect, 146 for criticizing one of his acts, that he threw himself from a great height and died instantly. When the praetor Quintus Gallius came to pay respects, carrying a double tablet under his cloak, Augustus suspected it was a weapon. Not wishing to search him and risk finding something harmless, he had him dragged from the tribunal by centurions and tortured like a slave; and though Gallius confessed nothing, Augustus ordered him killed after personally ripping out his eyes. His own statement of the matter was that Gallius had sought a private audience to assassinate him; that he imprisoned him, then later freed and banished him, whereupon Gallius perished at sea or fell to bandits.

He accepted lifetime tribunitian power, but more than once took a colleague in this office for two five-year periods. 147 He also held oversight of morals and law for life, though not in name, and conducted a census of the people three times—the first and third with a partner, the second alone.

XXVIII. He twice considered restoring the republic: 148 first, right after defeating Antony, recalling Antony’s frequent reproaches that Augustus stood in the way of the republic’s return; and a second time, after a long illness, when he summoned the magistrates and senate to his house and gave them a detailed account of the empire’s state. But realizing that stepping down might be dangerous both for him and the public—if the government were again entrusted to the people—he decided to keep power in his hands, whether with better results or intentions is hard to say. He claimed good intentions often in private and publicly issued an edict, stating: “May it be granted me to secure the safety and solid foundation of the commonwealth, and thus win the reward I seek—that of being renowned for establishing it best for present circumstances, so that when I depart this life, I may hope that what I have founded for its government will endure strong and stable.”

XXIX. The city, previously built in a way unworthy of Rome’s greatness and vulnerable to Tiber floods 149 and fire, was so improved under his rule that he could justly boast, “I found Rome built of brick, and left it clothed in marble.” 150 He also made efforts to protect it from future disasters where possible. He erected numerous public buildings, the most notable being a new forum 151 with the temple of Mars the Avenger, the temple of Apollo on the Palatine Hill, and the temple of Jupiter Tonans on the Capitoline. The new forum was built because population and the number of court cases had swelled, and the two existing forums no longer sufficed—hence a third was opened before the temple of Mars was finished. A law was passed that court cases and the selection of judges by lot were to take place there. He vowed the temple of Mars during the Philippi war, to avenge his father’s murder. The senate was to meet there to decide on wars and triumphs; military governors set out from it; and victorious generals deposited their trophies there. He built the temple of Apollo 152 on the site of his Palatine house that had been struck by lightning, as the soothsayers claimed this showed the god’s favor. He added covered walks and a library of Latin and Greek authors; 153 in his later years, he often held senate meetings and reviewed the rolls of judges there.

He dedicated the temple of Jupiter Tonans 154 to mark his escape from danger in the Cantabrian campaign, when, traveling by night, lightning struck his litter and killed the torch-bearer slave. He also raised some public buildings in the names of relatives—his grandsons, wife, and sister: the portico and basilica of Lucius and Caius, the porticos of Livia and Octavia, 155 and the theatre of Marcellus. 156 He encouraged other nobles to beautify the city with new buildings or repairs, according to their means. In response, Marcius Philippus erected the temple of Hercules and the Muses, Lucius Cornificius a temple of Diana, Asinius Pollio the Hall of Liberty, Munatius Plancus the temple of Saturn, Cornelius Balbus a theatre, 157 Statilius Taurus an amphitheatre, and Marcus Agrippa many other magnificent projects. 158

(94) XXX. He divided the city into regions and districts, assigning the annual magistrates by lot to oversee the regions, and appointing neighborhood wardens from among the local residents for the districts. He established a night watch to guard against fire, and, to prevent flooding, widened and cleared the Tiber’s channel, which had become nearly clogged with debris and narrowed by the remains of collapsed buildings. 159 To improve access to the city, he personally undertook to repair the Flaminian Way as far as Ariminum 160, assigning the repair of the other roads to men who had won a triumph, to be funded by the spoils of war. Temples ruined by age or fire he rebuilt or restored, decorating them—and many others—with splendid offerings. On one occasion, he deposited in Jupiter Capitolinus’ temple sixteen thousand pounds of gold, along with jewels and pearls worth fifty million sesterces.

XXXI. The office of Pontifex Maximus, of which he could (95) not decently deprive Lepidus as long as he lived 161, he assumed as soon as he was dead. He then caused all prophetical books, both in Latin and Greek, the authors of which were either unknown, or of no great authority, to be brought in; and the whole collection, amounting to upwards of two thousand volumes, he committed to the flames, preserving only the Sibylline oracles; but not even those without a strict examination, to ascertain which were genuine. This being done, he deposited them in two gilt coffers, under the pedestal of the statue of the Palatine Apollo. He restored the calendar, which had been corrected by Julius Caesar, but through negligence was again fallen into confusion 162, to its former regularity; and upon that occasion, called the month Sextilis 163, by his own name, August, rather than September, in which he was born; because in it he had obtained his first consulship, and all his most considerable victories 164. He increased the number, dignity, and revenues of the priests, and especially those of the Vestal Virgins. And when, upon the death of one of them, a new one was to be taken 165, and many persons made interest that their daughters’ names might be omitted in the lists for election, he replied with an oath, “If either of my own grand-daughters were old enough, I would have proposed her.”

He likewise revived some old religious customs, which had become obsolete; as the augury of public health, the office of high priest of Jupiter, the religious solemnity of the Lupercalia, with the Secular, and Compitalian games. He prohibited young boys from running in the Lupercalia; and in respect of the Secular games, issued an order, that no young persons of either sex should appear at any public diversions in the night-time, unless in the company of some elderly relation. He ordered the household gods to be decked twice a year with spring and summer flowers, in the Compitalian festival.

Next to the immortal gods, he paid the highest honours to the memory of those generals who had raised the Roman state from its low origin to the highest pitch of grandeur. He accordingly repaired or rebuilt the public edifices erected by them; preserving the former inscriptions, and placing statues of them all, with triumphal emblems, in both the porticos of his forum, issuing an edict on the occasion, in which he made the following declaration: “My design in so doing is, that the Roman people may require from me, and all succeeding princes, a conformity to those illustrious examples.” He likewise removed the statue of Pompey from the senate-house, in which Caius Caesar had been killed, and placed it under a marble arch, fronting the palace attached to Pompey’s theatre.

XXXII. He corrected many ill practices, which, to the detriment of the public, had either survived the licentious habits of the late civil wars, or else originated in the long peace. Bands of robbers showed themselves openly, completely armed, under colour of self-defence; and in different parts of the country, travellers, freemen and slaves without distinction, were forcibly carried off, and kept to work in the houses of correction. Several associations were formed under the specious name of a new college, which banded together for the perpetration of all kinds of villany. The banditti he quelled by establishing posts of soldiers in suitable stations for the purpose; the houses of correction were subjected to a strict superintendence; all associations, those only excepted which were of ancient standing, and recognised by the laws, were dissolved. He burnt all the notes of those who had been a long time in arrear with the treasury, as being the principal source of vexatious suits and prosecutions. Places in the city claimed by the public, where the right was doubtful, he adjudged to the actual possessors. He struck out of the list of criminals the names of those over whom prosecutions had been long impending, where nothing further was intended by the informers than to gratify their own malice, by seeing their enemies humiliated; laying it down as a rule, that if any one chose to renew a prosecution, he should incur the risk of the punishment which he sought to inflict. And that crimes might not escape punishment, nor business be neglected by delay, he ordered the courts to sit during the thirty days which were spent in celebrating honorary games. To the three classes of judges then existing, he added a fourth, consisting of persons of inferior order, who were called Ducenarii, and decided all litigations about trifling sums. He chose judges from the age of thirty years and upwards; that is five years younger than had been usual before. And a great many declining the office, he was with much difficulty prevailed upon to allow each class of judges a twelve-month’s vacation in turn; and the courts to be shut during the months of November and December.

XXXIII. He was himself assiduous in his functions as a judge, and would sometimes prolong his sittings even into the night: if he were indisposed, his litter was placed before the tribunal, or he administered justice reclining on his couch at home; displaying always not only the greatest attention, but extreme lenity. To save a culprit, who evidently appeared guilty of parricide, from the extreme penalty of being sewn up in a sack, because none were punished in that manner but such as confessed the fact, he is said to have interrogated him thus: “Surely you did not kill your father, did you?” And when, in a trial of a cause about a forged will, all those who had signed it were liable to the penalty of the Cornelian law, he ordered that his colleagues on the tribunal should not only be furnished with the two tablets by which they decided, “guilty or not guilty,” but with a third likewise, ignoring the offence of those who should appear to have given their signatures through any deception or mistake. All appeals in causes between inhabitants of Rome, he assigned every year to the praetor of the city; and where provincials were concerned, to men of consular rank, to one of whom the business of each province was referred.

XXXIV. Some laws he abrogated, and he made some new ones; such as the sumptuary law, that relating to adultery and the violation of chastity, the law against bribery in elections, and likewise that for the encouragement of marriage. Having been more severe in his reform of this law than the rest, he found the people utterly averse to submit to it, unless the penalties were abolished or mitigated, besides allowing an interval of three years after a wife’s death, and increasing the premiums on marriage. The equestrian order clamoured loudly, at a spectacle in the theatre, for its total repeal; whereupon he sent for the children of Germanicus, and shewed them partly sitting upon his own lap, and partly on their father’s; intimating by his looks and gestures, that they ought not to think it a grievance to follow the example of that young man. But finding that the force of the law was eluded, by marrying girls under the age of puberty, and by frequent change of wives, he limited the time for consummation after espousals, and imposed restrictions on divorce.

XXXV. By two separate scrutinies he reduced to their former number and splendour the senate, which had been swamped by a disorderly crowd; for they were now more than a thousand, and some of them very mean persons, who, after Caesar’s death, had been chosen by dint of interest and bribery, so that they had the nickname of Orcini among the people. The first of these scrutinies was left to themselves, each senator naming another; but the last was conducted by himself and Agrippa. On this occasion he is believed to have taken his seat as he presided, with a coat of mail under his tunic, and a sword by his side, and with ten of the stoutest men of senatorial rank, who were his friends, standing round his chair. Cordus Cremutius relates that no senator was suffered to approach him, except singly, and after having his bosom searched [for secreted daggers]. Some he obliged to have the grace of declining the office; these he allowed to retain the privileges of wearing the distinguishing dress, occupying the seats at the solemn spectacles, and of feasting publicly, reserved to the senatorial order. That those who were chosen and approved of, might perform their functions under more solemn obligations, and with less inconvenience, he ordered that every senator, before he took his seat in the house, should pay his devotions, with an offering of frankincense and wine, at the altar of that God in whose temple the senate then assembled, and that their stated meetings should be only twice in the month, namely, on the calends and ides; and that in the months of September and October, a certain number only, chosen by lot, such as the law required to give validity to a decree, should be required to attend. For himself, he resolved to choose every six months a new council, with whom he might consult previously upon such affairs as he judged proper at any time to lay before the full senate. He also took the votes of the senators upon any subject of importance, not according to custom, nor in regular order, but as he pleased; that every one might hold himself ready to give his opinion, rather than a mere vote of assent.

XXXVI. He also made several other alterations in the management of public affairs, among which were these following: that the acts of the senate should not be published; that the magistrates should not be sent into the provinces immediately after the expiration of their office; that the proconsuls should have a certain sum assigned them out of the treasury for mules and tents, which used before to be contracted for by the government with private persons; that the management of the treasury should be transferred from the city-quaestors to the praetors, or those who had already served in the latter office; and that the decemviri should call together the court of One hundred, which had been formerly summoned by those who had filled the office of quaestor.

XXXVII. To augment the number of persons employed in the administration of the state, he devised several new offices; such as surveyors of the public buildings, of the roads, the aqueducts, and the bed of the Tiber; for the distribution of corn to the people; the praefecture of the city; a triumvirate for the election of the senators; and another for inspecting the several troops of the equestrian order, as often as it was necessary. He revived the office of censor, which had been long disused, and increased the number of praetors. He likewise required that whenever the consulship was conferred on him, he should have two colleagues instead of one; but his proposal was rejected, all the senators declaring by acclamation that he abated his high majesty quite enough in not filling the office alone, and consenting to share it with another.

XXXVIII. He was unsparing in the reward of military merit, having granted to above thirty generals the honour of the greater triumph; besides which, he took care to have triumphal decorations voted by the senate for more than that number. That the sons of senators might become early acquainted with the administration of affairs, he permitted them, at the age when they took the garb of manhood, to assume also the distinction of the senatorian robe, with its broad border, and to be present at the debates in the senate-house. When they entered the military service, he not only gave them the rank of military tribunes in the legions, but likewise the command of the auxiliary horse. And that all might have an opportunity of acquiring military experience, he commonly joined two sons of senators in command of each troop of horse. He frequently reviewed the troops of the equestrian order, reviving the ancient custom of a cavalcade, which had been long laid aside. But he did not suffer any one to be obliged by an accuser to dismount while he passed in review, as had formerly been the practice. As for such as were infirm with age, or any way deformed, he allowed them to send their horses before them, coming on foot to answer to their names, when the muster roll was called over soon afterwards. He permitted those who had attained the age of thirty-five years, and desired not to keep their horse any longer, to have the privilege of giving it up.

XXXIX. With the assistance of ten senators, he obliged each of the Roman knights to give an account of his life: in regard to those who fell under his displeasure, some were punished; others had a mark of infamy set against their names. The most part he only reprimanded, but not in the same terms. The mildest mode of reproof was by delivering them tablets, the contents of which, confined to themselves, they were to read on the spot. Some he disgraced for borrowing money at low interest, and letting it out again upon usurious profit.

XL. In the election of tribunes of the people, if there was not a sufficient number of senatorian candidates, he nominated others from the equestrian order; granting them the liberty, after the expiration of their office, to continue in whichsoever of the two orders they pleased. As most of the knights had been much reduced in their estates by the civil wars, and therefore durst not sit to see the public games in the theatre in the seats allotted to their order, for fear of the penalty provided by the law in that case, he enacted, that none were liable to it, who had themselves, or whose parents had ever, possessed a knight’s estate. He took the census of the Roman people street by street: and that the people might not be too often taken from their business to receive the distribution of corn, it was his intention to deliver tickets three times a year for four months respectively; but at their request, he continued the former regulation, that they should receive their share monthly. He revived the former law of elections, endeavouring, by various penalties, to suppress the practice of bribery. Upon the day of election, he distributed to the freemen of the Fabian and Scaptian tribes, in which he himself was enrolled, a thousand sesterces each, that they might look for nothing from any of the candidates. Considering it of extreme importance to preserve the Roman people pure, and untainted with a mixture of foreign or servile blood, he not only bestowed the freedom of the city with a sparing hand, but laid some restriction upon the practice of manumitting slaves. When Tiberius interceded with him for the freedom of Rome in behalf of a Greek client of his, he wrote to him for answer, “I shall not grant it, unless he comes himself, and satisfies me that he has just grounds for the application.” And when Livia begged the freedom of the city for a tributary Gaul, he refused it, but offered to release him from payment of taxes, saying, “I shall sooner suffer some loss in my exchequer, than that the citizenship of Rome be rendered too common.” Not content with interposing many obstacles to either the partial or complete emancipation of slaves, by quibbles respecting the number, condition and difference of those who were to be manumitted; he likewise enacted that none who had been put in chains or tortured, should ever obtain the freedom of the city in any degree. He endeavoured also to restore the old habit and dress of the Romans; and upon seeing once, in an assembly of the people, a crowd in grey cloaks, he exclaimed with indignation, “See there,

Romanos rerum dominos, gentemque togatem."

Rome’s conquering sons, lords of the wide-spread globe,  
Stalk proudly in the toga’s graceful robe.

And he gave orders to the ediles not to permit, in future, any Roman to be present in the forum or circus unless they took off their short coats, and wore the toga.

XLI. He displayed his munificence to all ranks of the people on various occasions. Moreover, upon his bringing the treasure belonging to the kings of Egypt into the city, in his Alexandrian triumph, he made money so plentiful, that interest fell, and the price of land rose considerably. And afterwards, as often as large sums of money came into his possession by means of confiscations, he would lend it free of interest, for a fixed term, to such as could give security for the double of what was borrowed. The estate necessary to qualify a senator, instead of eight hundred thousand sesterces, the former standard, he ordered, for the future, to be twelve hundred thousand; and to those who had not so much, he made good the deficiency. He often made donations to the people, but generally of different sums; sometimes four hundred, sometimes three hundred, or two hundred and fifty sesterces upon which occasions, he extended his bounty even to young boys, who before were not used to receive anything, until they arrived at eleven years of age. In a scarcity of corn, he would frequently let them have it at a very low price, or none at all; and doubled the number of the money tickets.

XLII. But to show that he was a prince who regarded more the good of his people than their applause, he reprimanded them very severely, upon their complaining of the scarcity and dearness of wine. “My son-in-law, Agrippa,” he said, “has sufficiently provided for quenching your thirst, by the great plenty of water with which he has supplied the town.” Upon their demanding a gift which he had promised them, he said, “I am a man of my word.” But upon their importuning him for one which he had not promised, he issued a proclamation upbraiding them for their scandalous impudence; at the same time telling them, “I shall now give you nothing, whatever I may have intended to do.” With the same strict firmness, when, upon a promise he had made of a donative, he found many slaves had been emancipated and enrolled amongst the citizens, he declared that no one should receive anything who was not included in the promise, and he gave the rest less than he had promised them, in order that the amount he had set apart might hold out. On one occasion, in a season of great scarcity, which it was difficult to remedy, he ordered out of the city the troops of slaves brought for sale, the gladiators belonging to the masters of defence, and all foreigners, excepting physicians and the teachers of the liberal sciences. Part of the domestic slaves were likewise ordered to be dismissed. When, at last, plenty was restored, he writes thus “I was much inclined to abolish for ever the practice of allowing the people corn at the public expense, because they trust so much to it, that they are too lazy to till their lands; but I did not persevere in my design, as I felt sure that the practice would some time or other be revived by some one ambitious of popular favour.” However, he so managed the affair ever afterwards, that as much account was taken of husbandmen and traders, as of the idle populace.

XLIII. In the number, variety, and magnificence of his public spectacles, he surpassed all former example. Four-and-twenty times, he says, he treated the people with games upon his own account, and three-and-twenty times for such magistrates as were either absent, or not able to afford the expense. The performances took place sometimes in the different streets of the city, and upon several stages, by players in all languages. The same he did not only in the forum and amphitheatre, but in the circus likewise, and in the septa: and sometimes he exhibited only the hunting of wild beasts. He entertained the people with wrestlers in the Campus Martius, where wooden seats were erected for the purpose; and also with a naval fight, for which he excavated the ground near the Tiber, where there is now the grove of the Caesars. During these two entertainments he stationed guards in the city, lest, by robbers taking advantage of the small number of people left at home, it might be exposed to depredations. In the circus he exhibited chariot and foot races, and combats with wild beasts, in which the performers were often youths of the highest rank. His favourite spectacle was the Trojan game, acted by a select number of boys, in parties differing in age and station; thinking that it was a practice both excellent in itself, and sanctioned by ancient usage, that the spirit of the young nobles should be displayed in such exercises. Caius Nonius Asprenas, who was lamed by a fall in this diversion, he presented with a gold collar, and allowed him and his posterity to bear the surname of Torquati. But soon afterwards he gave up the exhibition of this game, in consequence of a severe and bitter speech made in the senate by Asinius Pollio, the orator, in which he complained bitterly of the misfortune of Aeserninus, his grandson, who likewise broke his leg in the same diversion.

Sometimes he engaged Roman knights to act upon the stage, or to fight as gladiators; but only before the practice was prohibited by a decree of the senate. Thenceforth, the only exhibition he made of that kind, was that of a young man named Lucius, of a good family, who was not quite two feet in height, and weighed only seventeen pounds, but had a stentorian voice. In one of his public spectacles, he brought the hostages of the Parthians, the first ever sent to Rome from that nation, through the middle of the amphitheatre, and placed them in the second tier of seats above him. He used likewise, at times when there were no public entertainments, if any thing was brought to Rome which was uncommon, and might gratify curiosity, to expose it to public view, in any place whatever; as he did a rhinoceros in the Septa, a tiger upon a stage, and a snake fifty cubits long in the Comitium. It happened in the Circensian games, which he performed in consequence of a vow, that he was taken ill, and obliged to attend the Thensae, reclining on a litter. Another time, in the games celebrated for the opening of the theatre of Marcellus, the joints of his curule chair happening to give way, he fell on his back. And in the games exhibited by his grandsons, when the people were in such consternation, by an alarm raised that the theatre was falling, that all his efforts to re-assure them and keep them quiet, failed, he moved from his place, and seated himself in that part of the theatre which was thought to be exposed to most danger.

XLIV. He corrected the confusion and disorder with which the spectators took their seats at public games, after a senator at Puteoli had been insulted when, in a crowded theatre, no one would make room for him. He therefore obtained a decree from the senate that at all public spectacles, no matter where or of what kind, the entire first tier of benches be left vacant for senators. He did not even permit ambassadors from free nations, or even Rome’s allies, to sit in the orchestra, having discovered that some manumitted slaves had been sent under that title. He separated the soldiers from the rest of the people, assigned married plebeians their own rows, and gave the boys their own benches, while their tutors sat in the seats closest to them. He ordered that no one dressed in black was allowed to sit in the center of the circle. He did not allow any women to watch gladiator combats unless it was from the upper part of the theatre, though previously they could sit among the general spectators. For the Vestal Virgins, he reserved special seats in the theatre directly opposite the praetor’s bench. However, he excluded all women from viewing the wrestling matches. When he put on games to celebrate becoming high-priest, he delayed presenting a pair of combatants that the crowd wanted to see until the following morning, announcing by proclamation, “It is my wish that no woman appear in the theatre before five o’clock.”

XLV. He usually watched the Circus games from the upper rooms of the houses of his friends or freedmen, and sometimes from spots meant for the statues of the gods, sitting with his wife and children. Occasionally, he would be absent from the spectacles for several hours or even entire days, though never without apologizing and appointing a substitute to oversee in his absence. When present, he never let his attention wander, either to avoid the criticism his father Caesar had received for reading letters and giving orders during the games, or simply because he genuinely enjoyed the shows—a fact he openly admitted. He would often reward the best performers, even at games conducted by others, with honorary crowns and generous gifts, and never attended a Greek performance without giving suitable prizes to the most deserving. He took particular pleasure in watching boxing matches, especially among Latin fighters, and would match trained Latins with Greek champions; he also enjoyed the wild brawls of the lower classes in the streets, regardless of their lack of skill. In short, he honored anyone who contributed to the success of public entertainments. He not only maintained but expanded the privileges of wrestlers. He forbade gladiator fights where no mercy was shown. He took away from magistrates the unrestricted power to discipline stage performers, which ancient law had allowed at any time and place, limiting that authority to the duration of performances and only for misconduct in the theatre. Still, he demanded from wrestlers and gladiators the highest level of effort; he would not allow this to be relaxed. He so restrained the immorality of stage performers that, having discovered that Stephanio, a top performer, kept a married woman disguised as a boy as an attendant at his table, he ordered Stephanio to be whipped through all three theatres and then banished him. Hylas, a pantomime actor, was ordered to be whipped in his own (publicly accessible) courtyard after a complaint from the praetor. He banished Pylades not only from the city but from all Italy for pointing at and drawing the audience’s ridicule on a spectator who had hissed him.

(109) XLVI. Having thus regulated the city and its affairs, he increased Italy's population by founding no fewer than twenty-eight colonies, improving the region through public works and wise use of revenues. He made Italy nearly equal to the city in rights and privileges, creating a new voting practice by which leading city officials and magistrates could cast their votes at home and send them, sealed, to the city for elections. To increase the number of upper class families and children among the lower ranks, he granted the request of anyone who asked for the honor of serving as a knight, provided their local town supported the request. He also distributed a thousand sesterces each to lower-class citizens who presented him with children when he visited their areas.

XLVII. The more significant provinces, those unsafe or unsuited for governance by yearly magistrates, he kept under his own administration; the rest he assigned by lot to the proconsuls. He sometimes swapped provinces and regularly visited many of them. Some allied cities that were hastening to ruin through recklessness, he stripped of independence. Others, deeply in debt, he helped, and he rebuilt those destroyed by earthquakes. Cities that could show reasons for deserving it were granted Latin citizenship or sometimes even Roman citizenship. I believe there is no province he did not visit except Africa and Sardinia. After forcing Sextus Pompeius into those regions, he intended to cross from Sicily, but bad storms stopped him, and later no further need arose.

XLVIII. The kingdoms he acquired by conquest—except a few—he either returned to their former owners or gave to outsiders. Between allied kings, he encouraged close ties, supporting marriages or alliances among them, and treated them all as if they were integral parts of the empire. For minors or those judged insane, he appointed guardians until they reached adulthood or recovered. He also raised and educated the sons of many of them alongside his own children.

XLIX. Regarding the army, he stationed legions and auxiliaries throughout the provinces, kept a fleet at Misenum and another at Ravenna for the protection of the upper and lower seas. He assigned some troops for city defense and his own bodyguard, but he dismissed the Spanish guard after Antony’s defeat and the German guard after Varus’s defeat. He never allowed more than three cohorts in the city itself, and had no permanent Praetorian camps. Other troops were quartered near the closest towns, in summer and winter camps. He standardized the pay and pensions for soldiers throughout the empire, adjusting them based on rank, length of service, and personal means, to discourage them from supporting uprisings once discharged. To fund these pensions, he established a military treasury funded by new taxes. To get fast news from the provinces, he started postal stations—first using young men at moderate intervals, then organized couriers using fast carriages; he preferred this method, as the messengers could be questioned about the letters they carried if needed.

L. For sealing official documents—letters-patent, orders, or correspondence—he first used a sphinx, then the head of Alexander (111) the Great, and finally his own portrait engraved by Dioscorides; this custom was followed by later emperors. He was very careful in dating his letters, always noting the exact time of day or night they were sent.

LI. There are many notable examples of his mercy and moderation. Not to mention the numerous adversaries he forgave, restored to favor, and allowed to rise to the highest ranks, he considered it sufficient to punish Junius Novatus and Cassius Patavinus—both plebeians—one with a fine, the other with a mild banishment: even though one had circulated, in young Agrippa’s name, a scurrilous letter against him, and the other had openly declared at a large banquet, “that he neither lacked the will nor the courage to stab him.” In the trial of Aemilius Aelianus of Cordova, when among other charges the accusation was made that he used to slander Caesar, Augustus turned to the accuser and said, with a heated tone, “I wish you could prove that; I’ll let Aelianus know I have a tongue, too, and I’ll speak more sharply of him than he ever did of me.” Yet he made no further inquiry into the matter, then or later. When Tiberius wrote to him, complaining indignantly of the offense, Augustus replied: “Do not, my dear Tiberius, give in to the passions of youth in this matter; nor be so angry that anyone should speak ill of me. It is enough for us if we can prevent anyone from doing us real harm.”

LII. Although he knew it was traditional to dedicate temples to proconsuls, he would not allow any to be built in the provinces unless they were dedicated jointly to himself and Rome. Within the city itself, he strictly refused all such honors. He had all the silver statues that had been raised to him melted down, turning them into tripods, which he then dedicated to the Palatine Apollo. When pressed by the people to accept the dictatorship, he knelt down with his toga thrown over his shoulder and his chest bare, begging to be excused.

(112) LIII. He always hated the title "Lord," considering it ill-omened and offensive. Once, during a play he attended, the line “O just and gracious lord” was spoken, and the crowd, believing it referred to him, cheered loudly. He immediately suppressed this flattery by raising his hand and frowning, and the next day published a proclamation expressing his displeasure. He never again allowed himself to be addressed this way, not even by his children or grandchildren in jest or seriousness, and forbade them to use such compliments even with each other. He rarely entered or left a city except at night or in the evening, to avoid anyone going to the trouble of coming to greet him. During his consulships, he usually walked the streets on foot; otherwise, he traveled in a closed carriage. He allowed even ordinary people, along with those of higher rank, into his court; and accepted their petitions so amiably that he once joked to a petitioner, “You hand over your petition as nervously as if you were offering money to an elephant.” On senate days, he greeted the senators by name as they sat, with no one prompting him; on leaving, he bade them farewell as they remained seated. In the same way, he often kept up close friendships, attending family celebrations until, when older, he was bothered by the crowds at a wedding. When he heard that Gallus Terrinius, a senator he barely knew, had gone blind suddenly and planned to starve himself to death, Augustus visited him and, by encouraging words, persuaded him to change his mind.

LIV. While speaking in the senate, he was once told by a senator, “I did not understand you,” and by another, “I would contradict you, if I could do so safely.” If heated debates caused him to leave in anger, other senators would say, “Surely, senators should have freedom of speech on state matters.” When, during the selection of a new senate, each appointee named someone else, Antistius Labeo chose Marcus Lepidus, formerly Augustus’s enemy and now in exile. When Augustus asked, “Is there no more deserving person?” Labeo replied, “Every man has his own opinion.” No one was ever punished for their freedom of speech, even when it bordered on insolence.

LV. Even when some shameful libels against him were circulated in the senate-house, he was neither disturbed nor cared to deny them. He did not bother to search for the authors; he simply suggested that in future, anyone who published slander or satire under a false name should be held accountable.

LVI. When provoked by biting jokes aimed to make him unpopular, he answered with a public declaration; yet he kept the senate from passing a law to restrain such attacks in people’s wills. At elections, he would go around the tribes with his favored candidates, requesting votes just like anyone else. He even voted in his own tribe as any ordinary citizen. He let himself be summoned as a witness at trials, answering questions and cross-examination with complete patience. While building his Forum, he stayed within the property boundaries, refusing to force the neighboring owners to sell. He never recommended his sons to the people without adding, “If they deserve it.” When crowds rose and applauded his sons as minors when they entered the theatre, he officially complained about the gesture.

(114) He wanted his friends to be great and powerful in the state, but to have no special privileges or immunity from the law. When his dear friend Asprenas Nonius was prosecuted for poisoning at Cassius Severus’s instigation, Augustus asked the senate’s advice on what he should do, saying, “If I support him, I may be thought to protect the guilty; if I do not, it may seem I am abandoning my friend.” With the senate’s agreement, he sat with the defense without offering personal testimony, as was the custom. He also appeared on behalf of his clients; for example, for Scutarius, an old soldier, in a slander case. He never stopped a prosecution except in one case: the informer on Muraena’s conspiracy, and then only by persuading the accuser in open court to withdraw the charge.

LVII. How much he was loved for his behavior in these matters is obvious. Apart from decrees of the senate, which might be viewed as required or insincere, the Roman knights voluntarily celebrated his birthday for two days every year. All the people, to fulfill a vow, yearly threw coins into the Curtian lake as an offering for his health. Every January 1st, they gave him New Year’s gifts in the Capitol, whether he was present or not. He used these funds to purchase valuable images of the gods, which he erected in various city streets—such as those of Apollo Sandaliarius and Jupiter Tragoedus. When his Palatine house accidentally burned down, the veteran soldiers, judges, tribes, and the general public all contributed what they could to rebuild it; but he would only accept a token amount from each, and refused more than one denarius from any individual. On his return from the provinces, the people greeted him with cheers and songs. It is also noted that whenever he entered the city, punishments were suspended while he was present.

LVIII. The whole people, acting suddenly and unanimously, offered him the title FATHER OF HIS COUNTRY. It was first offered to him at Antium by a delegation; when he declined, they renewed the offer in Rome in a crowded theatre, everyone crowned with laurel. The senate soon adopted the proposal—not by shouting or decree, but by unanimously instructing M. Messala to formally confer it with the words: “With heartfelt prayers for your health and that of your family, Caesar Augustus (for we believe we are thus protecting the state's wellbeing), the senate, with the agreement of the people, salute you as FATHER OF YOUR COUNTRY.” Augustus, with tears in his eyes, replied (and I give his exact words): “Having now reached the height of my wishes, O Conscript Fathers, what else can I ask of the Immortal (116) Gods, except that you keep this feeling for me to the end of my life?”

LIX. For the physician Antonius Musa, who cured him of a dangerous illness, they set up a statue near that of Aesculapius by public subscription. Some heads of families directed, in their wills, that their heirs should lead victims to the Capitol with a tablet beforehand and pay their vows, “because Augustus still survived.” Some Italian cities made the day of his first visit the start of their year. Most provinces, besides building temples and altars to him, established games to be held every five years in his honor in many towns.

LX. The kings, his friends and allies, built cities called Caesarea in their domains; all agreed to jointly finish at their cost the temple of Jupiter Olympius at Athens, begun long before, and dedicate it to his Genius. They often left their kingdoms, laid aside royal symbols, put on the toga, and attended upon him daily as clients, both at Rome and as he traveled through the provinces.

LXI. Having now described how he managed his public, civil, and military offices, as well as his rule in peace and war, I will now recount his private and domestic life, his habits at home and among friends and dependents, and his fortune in those settings, from youth to his death. He lost his mother during his first consulship, and his sister Octavia in his fifty-fourth year. He treated both with the greatest affection in life and gave them the highest honors after death.

(117) LXII. When very young, he was engaged to the daughter of Publius Servilius Isauricus; but after his first reconciliation with Antony, when their two armies insisted they form a family alliance, he married Antony’s stepdaughter Claudia, who was still only just of marriageable age, the daughter of Fulvia by Publius Claudius. After a disagreement with Fulvia, his mother-in-law, he divorced Claudia, untouched and still a virgin. Shortly after, he married Scribonia, who had already been twice married to consular men and had a child by one of them. He later divorced her as well, explaining that he was worn out by her difficult nature; he then immediately married Livia Drusilla, taking her while she was pregnant from her husband, Tiberius Nero, and she never had any rival in his affection or regard.

LXIII. By Scribonia, he had a daughter named Julia, but he had no children with Livia, even though he greatly desired offspring. Livia became pregnant once but miscarried. He first gave his daughter Julia in marriage to Marcellus, his sister’s son, who had just come of age. After Marcellus's death, he arranged for her to marry Marcus Agrippa, persuading his sister to give up her son-in-law for his wishes; at that time, Agrippa was married to one of the Marcellas and had children with her. When Agrippa also died, Augustus considered several potential husbands for Julia, even among the equestrian order, but ultimately decided on Tiberius as his stepson. He compelled Tiberius to divorce his wife, who was then pregnant and had already borne him a child. Mark Antony writes, “That he first engaged Julia to his own son, and afterwards to Cotiso, king of the Getae,\(201\) demanding at the same time the king's daughter in marriage for himself.”

\(118\) LXIV. He had three grandsons by Agrippa and Julia: Caius, Lucius, and Agrippa; and two granddaughters, Julia and Agrippina. He married Julia to Lucius Paulus, son of the censor, and Agrippina to Germanicus, his sister’s grandson. He adopted Caius and Lucius at home, according to the ceremony of purchase \(202\) from their father, advanced them to state offices while they were still very young, and, when they were consuls-elect, sent them to visit the provinces and armies. In raising his daughter and granddaughters, he kept them engaged in domestic tasks, including spinning, and required them to speak and act openly in front of the household so everything could be recorded in the diary. He so strictly prohibited them from speaking with strangers that he once wrote a letter to Lucius Vinicius, a handsome young man from a good family, saying, “You have not behaved very modestly in visiting my daughter at Baiae.” He usually taught his grandsons himself to read, swim, and other basic skills; and he focused especially on having them imitate his handwriting. He never had supper unless they sat at the foot of his couch, and he never traveled without them, either having them ride in a chariot before him or beside him.

LXV. But in the midst of his joy and hopes for his large and well-ordered family, his fortune failed him. The two Julias, his daughter and granddaughter, gave themselves over to such debauchery that he banished them both. He lost Caius and Lucius within eighteen months, the former dying in Lycia, the latter at Marseilles. He adopted his third grandson Agrippa, along with his stepson Tiberius, in the forum by a law enacted by the Sections, but soon banished Agrippa because of his rough and unruly nature, confining him at Surrentum. He bore the deaths of his relatives more patiently than their disgrace; for while he was not overwhelmed by the loss of Caius and Lucius, in the case of his daughter he reported the matter to the senate by a message read by a quaestor, since he could not bear to be present himself. In fact, he was so ashamed of her infamous actions that for some time he avoided all company and even considered putting her to death. When Phoebe, one of her freedwomen and confidantes, hanged herself around that time, he remarked, “I would rather have been Phoebe’s father than Julia’s.” In her exile, he would not allow her to drink wine or have any luxury in clothing; nor would he permit any male servant, free or slave, to attend her without his approval and only after receiving an exact account of the attendant’s age, height, complexion, and any marks or scars. After five years he moved her from the island to the mainland, treating her less harshly, but could never be persuaded to recall her. When the Roman people repeatedly interceded on her behalf, all he answered was: “I wish you all had daughters and wives like her.” He also forbade the newborn of his granddaughter Julia, after her condemnation, to be acknowledged as a relative or brought up. Agrippa, who proved just as unruly and grew more foolish with time, was transported to an island and kept under guard, with a senatorial decree for his lifelong confinement. At any mention of him and the two Julias, Augustus would sigh deeply and say,

Aith’ ophelon agamos t’ emenai, agonos t’ apoletai.

Would I were wifeless, or had died childless!

He rarely referred to them except as his “three tumors or cancers.”

LXVI. Augustus was careful in choosing his friends, but remained steadfastly loyal to them, not only rewarding their virtues and merits according to their deserts, but also tolerating their faults and vices, if they were of a pardonable kind. Among all his friends, only a few fell from favor: Salvidienus Rufus, whom Augustus raised to the consulship, and Cornelius Gallus, whom he made prefect of Egypt—both men of humble origin. One, having plotted rebellion, was handed over to the senate for judgment; the other, because of his ungrateful and spiteful character, Augustus barred from his house and residence in any province. When Gallus, denounced by his accusers and sentenced by the senate, took his own life in despair, Augustus praised the loyalty of those who showed such indignation, but also wept and lamented his misfortune, saying, “That I alone cannot be allowed to resent the misconduct of my friends in the way I would wish.” The rest of his friends, of every order, prospered all their lives in both power and wealth, holding the highest ranks in their respective orders, despite some occasional failings. For instance, he sometimes complained that Agrippa was hasty and Maecenas a gossip—the former having resigned and retired to Mitylene because of slight suspicion or jealousy that Marcellus enjoyed more favor; the latter having confidentially shared with his wife Terentia the discovery of Muraena’s conspiracy.

He also expected demonstrations of loyalty from his friends both in life and in death. Though he never coveted their wealth and never accepted any legacy from a stranger, he pondered their final words thoughtfully, unable to conceal his disappointment if their wills mentioned him only slightly or without honor, and expressing delight if they showed gratitude and genuine affection for him. Any legacies or shares of property left to him by parents, he returned to their children either immediately, or, if underage, on the day they came of age or were married—usually with interest.

LXVII. As a patron and master, his behavior was generally mild and conciliatory, but he could be severe when required. He promoted many of his freedmen to places of honor and great responsibility, such as Licinus, Enceladus, and others. When his slave Cosmus insulted him bitterly, Augustus only punished him with fetters. When his steward Diomedes left him at the mercy of a suddenly charging wild boar while walking together, Augustus treated it as cowardice rather than a breach of duty, turning what could have been a serious incident into a joke, since there was no malice involved. He executed Proculus, one of his favorite freedmen, for maintaining adulterous relationships with other men's wives. He broke the legs of his secretary Thallus for accepting a bribe of five hundred denarii to reveal the contents of one of his letters. The tutor and other attendants of his son Caius, who took advantage of Caius' illness and death to indulge their insolence and greed in the province he governed, Augustus had drowned by tying heavy weights to their necks and throwing them into a river.

LXVIII. In his youth, he was the target of many slanderous accusations. Sextus Pompey called him effeminate; Mark Antony accused him of earning adoption from his uncle through prostitution. Lucius Antony, Mark’s brother, claimed he was sexually abused by Caesar; and that in Spain, for three hundred thousand sesterces, he submitted to Aulus Hirtius, adding that he singed his own legs with burnt nutshells to soften the hair. During a public entertainment at the theatre, when a line about “the Gallic priest of the mother of the gods, beating a drum,

Videsne ut cinaedus orbem digito temperet?
See with his orb the wanton's finger play!”

was recited, the audience applied it to Augustus with great applause.

LXIX. Even his friends do not deny that he committed various acts of adultery; but they claim he did so not out of lust, but as a political tool to uncover the schemes of his enemies through their wives. Mark Antony, in addition to criticizing Augustus for the hasty marriage to Livia, accused him of taking the wife of a man of consular rank from the table in front of her husband, taking her to a bed-chamber, and bringing her back with her ears red and hair tousled. He accused Augustus of divorcing Scribonia simply for protesting the excessive influence of one of his mistresses. He also charged that Augustus’ friends acted as procurers, forcing both married women and mature virgins to strip for full inspection, as if Thoranius the slave trader had them up for sale. Before they became enemies, Antony wrote to Augustus in a familiar tone: “Why are you changed toward me? Because I lie with a queen? She is my wife. Is this new with me, or have I not done so these nine years? And do you take similar liberties with Drusilla only? May you have as much health and happiness as when you read this letter you are not dallying with Tertulla, Terentilla, Rufilla, or Salvia Titiscenia, or all of them. What does it matter to you where or on whom you spend your manly vigour?”

LXX. A private banquet he hosted, known as the Supper of the Twelve Gods, where guests dressed as gods and goddesses and he played Apollo, was much discussed and criticized not only by Antony in his letters (who also named all present) but also in the following famous anonymous verses:

Cum primum istorum conduxit mensa choragum,  
Sexque deos vidit Mallia, sexque deas  
Impia dum Phoebi Caesar mendacia ludit,  
Dum nova divorum coenat adulteria:  
Omnia se a terris tunc numina declinarunt:  
Fugit et auratos Jupiter ipse thronos.

When Mallia late beheld, in mingled train,  
Twelve mortals ape twelve deities in vain;  
Caesar assumed what was Apollo’s due,  
And wine and lust inflamed the motley crew.

At the disgusting sight, the gods turned their eyes away,  
And from his throne, great Jove flew off in anger.

What made this banquet even more offensive to public opinion was that it took place during a time of great scarcity, when the city was nearly experiencing famine. The following day, there was a rumor circulating among the people that “the gods had eaten up all the grain; and that Caesar was truly Apollo, but Apollo the Tormentor,”—the title under which that god was worshipped in some parts of the city 212. He was also accused of having an excessive fondness for expensive furniture and Corinthian vessels, as well as being addicted to gambling. During the time of the proscriptions, the following verse was written on his statue:

Pater argentarius, ego Corinthiarius;  
“My father was a silversmith 213, my dealings are in brass;”

because people believed he had listed certain individuals for proscription just to get hold of their Corinthian vessels. Later, in the Sicilian war, this epigram appeared:

Postquam bis classe victus naves perdidit,  
Aliquando ut vincat, ludit assidue aleam.

“Having twice lost a fleet in unlucky battle,  
To eventually win, he plays dice night and day.”

LXXI. Regarding the accusation of vile impurity mentioned before, he easily disproved it by the chastity of his own life at the time when it was made, and continued to do so afterwards. His actions also contradicted rumors of luxury in his household furniture, for when Alexandria was taken, he kept nothing from the royal treasures but a porcelain cup—and soon after melted down all the gold vessels, even those for everyday use. However, his amorous tendencies never left him, and it is said that as he grew older he regularly seduced young girls procured for him from all quarters, even by his own wife. He paid no attention to the criticism about his gambling; he played openly, but only for amusement, even in his later years, and not only in December214, but at other times, on all kinds of days, holiday or not. This is clear from a letter he wrote himself, in which he says, “I dined, my dear Tiberius, with the same group as before. We also had Vinicius, and Silvius the elder. We played dice at supper like old men, both yesterday and today. And whoever rolled aces or sixes on the tali215 had to put down one denarius for each die; all of which went to whoever rolled a Venus.”216 In another letter, he writes: “We had, dear Tiberius, a good time during the festival of Minerva: we played every day and kept the board busy. Your brother cried out often during a streak of bad luck, but eventually recovered and didn’t lose much in the end. I lost twenty thousand sesterces myself, but I was very generous in my play, as I usually am; for if I had insisted on winning the stakes I let go, or kept what I gave away, I’d have won about fifty thousand. But I prefer it this way, as it will give me a reputation for generosity.” To his daughter, he writes: “I’ve sent you two hundred and fifty denarii, which I gifted to each of my guests, in case they wished to amuse themselves at supper with Tali, or the game of Even-or-Odd.”

LXXII. In other areas, he seems to have been moderate in his habits, and free from suspicion of vice. He first lived near the Roman Forum, above the Ring-maker’s Stairs, in a house once owned by Calvus the orator. Later, he moved to the Palatine Hill, where he lived in a small house 217 belonging to Hortensius, nothing remarkable in either size or decoration; the porches were small, the pillars made of Alban stone218, and the rooms had neither marble nor fancy pavement. He used the same bedroom, both summer and winter, for forty years219—even though he knew the city’s winters didn’t agree with his health, he still stayed there during the cold season. If he wanted perfect privacy, free from all interruption, he would lock himself in a top-floor room he called his Syracuse or Technophuon220, or withdraw to a villa owned by one of his freedmen nearby. But when unwell, he usually stayed in the house of Mecaenas221. Of all his retreats outside the city, he mainly frequented those on the coast and the islands of Campania222, or towns close to the city, such as Lanuvium, Praeneste, or Tibur223, where he often conducted legal business under the porticoes of Hercules’ temple. He particularly disliked large or lavish palaces, and even demolished some built at great expense by his granddaughter Julia. His own were rather modest in size, and he decorated them more with gardens and groves than with statues or paintings, and with objects curious for their antiquity or rarity—such as, at Capri, the huge limbs of sea-monsters and wild beasts locals called giant bones, as well as the weapons of ancient heroes.

LXXIII. Evidence of his frugality in furniture can still be seen today, with some surviving beds and tables barely elegant enough for a private home. It’s said he never slept on a bed except one that was low and simply furnished. He rarely wore anything that wasn’t made by his wife, sister, daughter, or grand-daughters. His togas224 were neither skimpy nor bulky (127), and the clavus was neither especially wide nor narrow. His shoes were a bit higher than usual, to make him look taller. He always had clothes and shoes suitable for public appearance ready in his bedroom for any emergency.

LXXIV. At his table—always plentiful and tasteful—he constantly entertained company, but was choosy about their rank and character. Valerius Messala reports that he never invited any freedman to dine with him, except for Menas, after granting him citizenship for betraying Pompey’s fleet. He himself writes that he dined with a man in whose villa he was staying, who had served as his spy. He often arrived late or left early, so the guests began supper before him and continued after he left. His dinners featured three courses, never more than six. His food might be modest, but his hospitality was perfect. For guests who were quiet or whispering, he encouraged conversation; and to liven up the company, he brought in buffoons, stage actors, or even low entertainers from the circus, and very often wandering comedians.

LXXV. He usually celebrated festivals and holidays lavishly, though sometimes just with fun. During Saturnalia or at any other time the notion struck him, he gave his guests clothes, gold, and silver—sometimes ancient coins, even those of former kings of Rome or foreign nations; sometimes only towels, sponges, rakes, tweezers, and similar items, with tickets bearing riddles or double meanings 225. He also used to hold a lottery among his guests where all sorts of items were auctioned, even paintings with their fronts turned away—so nobody knew what they were getting and some were delighted while others were disappointed. This game (128) went around to everyone, each person required to buy something and take their chances like the rest.

LXXVI. He ate sparingly (I must not leave this out), and usually stuck to a plain diet. He especially liked coarse bread, small fish, fresh cow’s milk cheese 226, and green figs that bore fruit twice a year227. He never waited for supper—he ate whenever and wherever he was hungry. I have copied some passages about this from his letters: “I ate a little bread and some small dates in my carriage.” Again, “Coming back from the palace in my litter, I ate an ounce of bread and a few raisins.” And, “No Jew, my dear Tiberius, ever fasts as strictly on the Sabbath 228 as I have today; for after the bath and before the first hour of night, I only ate two biscuits before being rubbed with oil.” Because of this indifference to food, he sometimes dined alone before his guests began, or after they had finished, and would not touch a bite with them at the table.

LXXVII. He was by nature very moderate with wine. Cornelius Nepos says he drank only three cups at supper in the camp at Modena; and at his most indulgent, he never exceeded a pint of wine—and if he did, his stomach would not keep it. Of all wines, he most preferred Rhaetian229, but rarely drank any during the day. Instead of wine, he would have bread dipped in cold water, or a slice of cucumber, or some lettuce leaves, or a tart green apple.

LXXVIII. After a light midday snack, he would rest230 as he was, fully dressed, shoes on, feet covered, hand over his eyes. After supper, he usually withdrew to his study—a small room—where he sat late, recording in his diary the remaining events of the day that he had not yet listed. Then he went to bed, but never slept more than seven hours at most, and not without interruption—he would wake three or four times. If he couldn’t get back to sleep, he would have someone read or tell stories to him until he dozed off, often sleeping in this way until after dawn. He never liked to lie awake in darkness without someone with him. Early rising did not agree with him; so if duty required it, he arranged to sleep in a room near the task, belonging to an attendant. If drowsiness came on in the street, his litter was stopped so he could nap for a few minutes.

LXXIX. Physically, he was handsome and graceful throughout life. But he was careless in his dress, and so unconcerned with his hair that several barbers would work on it in haste at once. Sometimes he clipped his beard, sometimes shaved, and would read or write during the process. His expression, both while talking or silent, was so calm and serene that a (130) first-rank Gaul, after meeting him in the Alps under pretense of business, admitted to his friends he was so impressed that he abandoned his plan to throw him off a cliff. His eyes were bright and piercing, and he liked people to think they possessed a kind of divine strength. He was delighted when people, meeting his steady gaze, lowered their eyes as if looking into the sun. But in old age, his left eye failed him somewhat. His teeth were few, small, and discolored; his hair slightly curly and yellowish; his eyebrows met; his ears were small; his nose aquiline. His complexion was between dark and fair; his stature rather short, though Julius Marathus, his freedman, said he was five feet nine inches tall. But this was well balanced by the just proportion of his body—only apparent when standing beside someone taller.

LXXX. He is reputed to have been born with several marks on his chest and belly, matching the arrangement and number of the stars in the constellation Bear. He also had several hard spots like scars, caused by itching and violent use of the strigil231 for rubbing. He was weak in his left hip, thigh, and leg, sometimes limping, but found much relief from using sand and reeds. Sometimes, the forefinger of his right hand was so weak that, when numb and contracting with cold, he was forced to use a horn ring to write. Occasionally he had trouble with his bladder, but after passing some stones, the pain disappeared.

LXXXI. Over his life, he sometimes suffered dangerous illnesses, especially after the conquest of Cantabria, when a defluxion injured his liver so badly he needed a risky cure: after hot therapies failed, Antonius Musa232 prescribed cold ones. He also fell ill at the same times each year; he was usually unwell near his birthday233. Early in spring he suffered from swelling in the diaphragm; and when the wind was from the south, he would catch a cold. These complaints so weakened him that he couldn’t easily tolerate heat or cold.

LXXXII. In winter, he shielded himself from the cold with a thick toga, four tunics, a shirt, a flannel chest-cover, and wrappings on his legs and thighs234. In summer, he would sleep with the bedroom doors open, often in a veranda, cooled by a fountain and a servant waving a fan. He couldn’t even endure the winter sun, and never went outside at home without a broad-brimmed hat. He preferred to travel by litter, and by night, at so slow a pace it took two days to reach Praeneste or Tibur. If he could, he’d travel by sea rather than by land. He took great care of his health because of his many ailments, avoiding regular bathing, but being often rubbed with oil and sweating in a stove, followed by washing in tepid water either heated by fire or left in the sun. When his nerves required it, he bathed in salt water or the Albula springs235, contenting himself with sitting over a wooden tub—called Dureta in Spanish—and dipping his hands and feet into the water alternately.

LXXXIII. As soon as the civil wars ended, he gave up riding and other military exercises in the Campus Martius, and began to play ball games, including football; but soon after, his only exercise became going outside in his litter or walking. Towards the end of his walks, he would run and leap, wrapped up in a short cloak or cape. For amusement, he sometimes went fishing, or played dice, with pebbles or nuts, alongside little boys gathered from various countries, especially Moors and Syrians, chosen for their looks or amusing conversation. However, he detested dwarfs and anyone deformed, considering them freaks of nature and bad omens.

LXXXIV. From an early age, he dedicated himself with great diligence and application to the study of eloquence and the other liberal arts. During the war of Modena, even with serious affairs occupying him, he supposedly read, wrote, and practiced speeches daily. He never addressed the senate, the people, or the army except with a prepared speech, though he was capable of speaking extemporaneously when needed. To prevent forgetting his words or wasting time preparing, his usual practice was to recite his speeches. Even in private conversation, and even with his wife Livia on important subjects, he wrote down all he wished to say on his tablets, so he wouldn’t say more or less than was suitable if he spoke offhand. He spoke in a sweet and distinctive tone, carefully trained by a master of elocution. When he had a cold, he sometimes used a herald to deliver his speeches to the people.

LXXXV. He wrote many prose works on various subjects, some of which he would occasionally read aloud to a gathering of friends. Among these was his “Rescript to Brutus respecting Cato.” Though he was advanced in years, he read most of the pages himself but, becoming tired, let Tiberius finish the rest. He also read his “Exhortations to Philosophy” and his “History of his own Life” in thirteen books, which he continued only as far as the Cantabrian war. He also made some attempts at poetry. There remains a book he wrote in hexameter verse, titled “Sicily.” There is also a book of epigrams, about the same size, mostly composed while he was in the bath. These are his only poetical works; for although he began a tragedy enthusiastically, he became dissatisfied with the style and erased the whole. When his friends asked, “What is your Ajax doing?” he replied, “My Ajax has met with a sponge.” 236

LXXXVI. He aimed for a style that was neat and pure, avoiding both trivial and harsh expressions, as well as obsolete words, which he called unpleasant. His main goal was to express his thoughts as clearly as possible. To achieve this, and to never confuse or slow down his readers or listeners, he did not hesitate to add prepositions to verbs or to repeat the same conjunction several times, which, though sometimes omitted for elegance, can cause a little obscurity. Those who used affected language or archaic words he disdained as equally faulty, though in opposite ways. He sometimes allowed himself jokes, especially with his friend Maecenas, whom he teased for his fancy phrases, mocking his manner of speaking. He didn’t hesitate to poke fun at Tiberius, who liked archaic and strained expressions. He called Mark Antony insane for writing to impress rather than to be understood, and to mock Antony’s erratic word choices, he wrote: “And are you still unsure whether Cimber Annius or Veranius Flaccus is a better model? Will you use words Sallustius Crispus borrowed from the ‘Origines’ of Cato? Or do you think the verbose, empty bombast of Asiatic orators suits our language?” In praising his granddaughter Agrippina’s talent, he said, “But you must especially take care, both in writing and speaking, to avoid affectation.”

LXXXVII. In regular conversation, he often used unique expressions, as shown in his handwritten letters. Now and then, when he meant some people would never repay debts, he’d say, “They will pay at the Greek Calends.” When advising patience in current situations, he would say, “Let us be content with our Cato.” To describe something done quickly, he said, “It was sooner done than asparagus is cooked.” He regularly used baceolus for stultus, pullejaceus for pullus, vacerrosus for cerritus, vapide se habere for male, and betizare for languere, which is commonly called lachanizare. He would use simus for sumus, domos for domus in the genitive singular. For these last two, lest anyone think they were typos, he never wavered in their use. He also showed this peculiarity in his handwriting: he never split words at the end of a line, but instead placed any leftover letters beneath the previous ones, contained by a bracket.

LXXXVIII. He did not strictly follow the grammarians’ rules of orthography, but believed we ought to write as we speak; so as for his changing or omitting not only letters but syllables, that is a common misconception. I only mention it because I find it odd that anyone claimed he sent a successor to a consular lieutenant as an ignorant, illiterate man, simply for writing ixi instead of ipsi. When he wrote in cipher, he used b for a, c for b, and so on; and for z, aa.

LXXXIX. He was just as fond of Greek literature, in which he was quite accomplished, having had Apollodorus (135) of Pergamus as his rhetoric teacher. Though Apollodorus was quite old, Augustus brought him from Rome to Apollonia when Augustus himself was still young. Later, learning philology from Sephaerus, he welcomed Areus the philosopher and his sons Dionysius and Nicanor into his own household. But he never spoke Greek fluently, nor ever tried to write in it. If he ever needed to communicate in Greek, he would express his thoughts in Latin and have someone else translate. He certainly knew Greek poetry and had a strong liking for ancient comedy, which he often had performed at his public spectacles. When reading Greek and Latin authors, he paid particular attention to advice and examples useful for public or private life. He would often copy out these passages exactly and give them to his household, or send them to military commanders, provincial governors, or city magistrates, if they seemed to need guidance. He even read entire books to the senate, and sometimes made them public through edicts; such as the orations of Quintus Metellus “for the Encouragement of Marriage,” and those of Rutilius “On the Style of Building;” 239 to show the people he was not the first to promote these things, but that the ancients also saw their importance. He encouraged the age’s men of talent in every way. He would listen patiently and kindly to readings of their works—not just poetry 240 and history, but orations and dialogues too. Still, he disapproved of anything written about him unless it was in a serious manner, by writers of the highest skill, and he instructed the praetors not to permit his name to be too common in contests among orators and poets in the theaters.

XC. Here is what we know about his (136) opinions regarding omens and similar things. He was so afraid of thunder and lightning that he always carried a seal’s skin for protection. If he feared a violent storm, he would hide in a vault underground; he had once been terrified by a lightning flash while traveling at night, as already mentioned. 241

XCI. He did not disregard dreams connected to himself, whether they were his own or someone else’s. At the battle of Philippi, though he’d resolved not to leave his tent because he was unwell, he was warned by a friend’s dream and changed his mind; it was fortunate he did, for the enemy’s attack pierced and slashed his empty couch, thinking he was in it. He often had strange and frightening dreams in spring, but in other seasons they were fewer and more meaningful. When frequently visiting a temple near the Capitol, which he had dedicated to Jupiter Tonans, he dreamed that Jupiter Capitolinus complained about his worshippers leaving him, and Augustus replied that he’d only made Jupiter Tonans his doorkeeper 242. After that, he hung small bells around the temple’s top, because such bells usually hung at grand houses’ doors. Because of another dream, on a certain day each year, he would beg alms from the people, holding out his hand to receive what they offered him.

XCII. Some signs and omens he considered absolutely reliable. If in the morning his shoe was put on the wrong foot—the left instead of the right—it was a sign of disaster. If, when he set out on a long journey by sea or land, a light rain fell, he took it as a good omen of a quick and happy return. He was deeply impressed by anything unusual in nature. A palm-tree 243 that grew up among stones in his house’s courtyard he transplanted to the court where the household gods’ images were kept and carefully cultivated it. In Capri, some withered branches of an old holm oak revived themselves upon his arrival; he was so pleased that he exchanged the island of Oenaria \[Ischia\] with the Republic 244 of Naples for Capri. He also observed certain days: he never left home the day after the Nundiae 245, nor began any serious work on the nones 246; for the latter, as he wrote to Tiberius, only because of its unlucky name.

XCIII. Regarding religious ceremonies of foreign nations, he strictly followed those established by ancient tradition, but had little regard for new ones. After being initiated at Athens, and later hearing a case in Rome involving the privileges of the priests of Attic Ceres, with the mysteries of their rites about to be discussed, he had the fellow judges and spectators leave and listened to that argument alone. Yet when traveling through Egypt, he deliberately avoided visiting Apis, and he even praised his grandson Caius (138) for not performing any devotions at Jerusalem while passing through Judaea. 247

XCIV. Since we are on this subject, it may be appropriate to recount the omens that occurred before, at, and after his birth, as well as those showing the good fortune that always attended him. At some point long ago a part of Velletri’s wall was struck by lightning, and the soothsayers responded that a native of the town would one day hold supreme power; relying on this, the Velletrians, repeatedly, waged war on the Romans to their own ruin. In the end, the omen proved true by Augustus’s rise.

Julius Marathus tells us that a few months before Augustus’s birth, a prodigy occurred in Rome, interpreted as a sign that Nature was giving birth to a king for the Roman people; the senate, anxious, decreed that no child born that year should be reared. But those senators whose wives were pregnant ensured the decree was not officially registered, so they could keep a chance at that dignity for their own children.

In the theological writings of Asclepiades the Mendesian 248, it is recorded that Atia, while attending a midnight festival for Apollo with other matrons, fell asleep on her couch in the temple after the ceremonies, and a serpent immediately approached and soon withdrew. On waking, she cleansed herself, as if after her husband’s embrace; right after, a serpent-shaped mark appeared on her body, which could not be removed, forcing her to avoid public baths ever after. Augustus was born ten months later, and so was thought the son of Apollo. The (139) same Atia, before her delivery, dreamed her bowels stretched to the stars and filled the heavens and earth. His father Octavius also dreamed a sunbeam shone out from his wife’s womb.

On the day Augustus was born, the senate was debating Catiline’s conspiracy. Octavius, delayed from attending while his wife was in labor, arrived late, and Publius Nigidius, on hearing the reason and knowing the hour of birth, declared the world had received a master. Later, when Octavius, traveling with his army through Thrace, consulted an oracle with barbarous rites in Bacchus’s grove about his son, the priests answered with another prophecy: as they poured wine on the altar, a huge flame shot up, reaching the temple roof and the sky, something only seen before with Alexander the Great on the same altars. That night, Octavius dreamed of his son in superhuman form, with thunderbolts and a scepter and the other signs of Jupiter Optimus Maximus, with a radiant crown on his head, riding a chariot adorned with laurel, drawn by twelve white horses.

As an infant, according to Caius Drusus, after being put to bed by his nurse in a low place, Augustus disappeared the following day and, after a long search, was found lying on a high tower with his face toward the rising sun 249. When he first began to speak, he supposedly ordered the frogs, which were being noisy on a family estate near the city, to be silent; and it’s said frogs have never croaked there since. At a meal in a grove at the fourth milestone on the Campanian road, an eagle swooped in, took a piece of bread from his hand, soared into the sky, then returned it to him.

Quintus Catulus dreamed for two nights in a row after he dedicated the Capitol. The first night, he dreamed Jupiter, from many noble boys playing by his altar, picked one and placed the public seal in his bosom. The second night, he saw the same boy in Jupiter Capitolinus’s embrace; ordered to remove the child, Jupiter forbade it, insisting the boy must be raised to guard the state. The next day, Catulus, who didn’t know Augustus, met him, was struck by his appearance, and said he looked remarkably like the boy from his dream. Others say Catulus’s first dream was that various noble boys asked Jupiter for a guardian; Jupiter pointed to one, indicating they should make requests to him, touching the boy’s mouth and then his own.

Marcus Cicero, accompanying Caius Caesar to the Capitol, recounted a dream he’d had the night before: a handsome youth was let down from heaven by a golden chain, stood at the Capitol’s door, and Jupiter gave him a whip. On seeing Augustus—at that time unknown to most—Cicero declared he recognized him as the boy from his dream. When Augustus assumed the toga of manhood, the seam of his senator’s tunic came apart on both sides and dropped to his feet. Some think this foretold the senatorial order, symbolized by the garment, would someday be under his authority.

Julius Caesar, building a camp near Munda 250, came upon a palm tree and ordered it preserved as an omen of victory. From the root, a shoot quickly grew so tall it overshadowed the tree itself, enough for many wild pigeons’ nests—though this bird usually avoids rough leaves. This prodigy reportedly influenced Caesar to prefer his sister’s grandson over all others as his successor.

(141) While in retirement in Apollonia, he and his friend Agrippa visited Theogenes the astrologer on his rooftop. Agrippa, consulting his fate first, had great fortunes foretold. Augustus at first refused to reveal his own birth details, shy and afraid his fate might seem less favorable. But finally persuaded, Theogenes immediately stood and paid him reverence. Soon Augustus became so confident in his destiny that he published his horoscope and minted a silver coin with the sign of Capricorn, under which he was born.

XCV. After the death of Caesar, upon his return from Apollonia, as he was entering the city, on a sudden, in a clear and bright sky, a circle resembling the rainbow surrounded the body of the sun; and, immediately afterwards, the tomb of Julia, Caesar’s daughter, was struck by lightning. In his first consulship, whilst he was observing the auguries, twelve vultures presented themselves, as they had done to Romulus. And when he offered sacrifice, the livers of all the victims were folded inward in the lower part; a circumstance which was regarded by those present, who had skill in things of that nature, as an indubitable prognostic of great and wonderful fortune.

XCVI. He certainly had a presentiment of the issue of all his wars. When the troops of the Triumviri were collected about Bolognia, an eagle, which sat upon his tent, and was attacked by two crows, beat them both, and struck them to the ground, in the view of the whole army; who thence inferred that discord would arise between the three colleagues, which would be attended with the like event: and it accordingly happened. At Philippi, he was assured of success by a Thessalian, upon the authority, as he pretended, of the Divine Caesar himself, who had appeared to him while he was travelling in a bye-road. At Perugia, the sacrifice not presenting any favourable intimations, but the contrary, he ordered fresh victims; the enemy, however, carrying off the sacred things in a sudden sally, it was agreed amongst the augurs, that all the (142) dangers and misfortunes which had threatened the sacrificer, would fall upon the heads of those who had got possession of the entrails. And, accordingly, so it happened. The day before the sea-fight near Sicily, as he was walking upon the shore, a fish leaped out of the sea, and laid itself at his feet. At Actium, while he was going down to his fleet to engage the enemy, he was met by an ass with a fellow driving it. The name of the man was Eutychus, and that of the animal, Nichon 251. After the victory, he erected a brazen statue to each, in a temple built upon the spot where he had encamped.

XCVII. His death, of which I shall now speak, and his subsequent deification, were intimated by divers manifest prodigies. As he was finishing the census amidst a great crowd of people in the Campus Martius, an eagle hovered round him several times, and then directed its course to a neighbouring temple, where it settled upon the name of Agrippa, and at the first letter. Upon observing this, he ordered his colleague Tiberius to put up the vows, which it is usual to make on such occasions, for the succeeding Lustrum. For he declared he would not meddle with what it was probable he should never accomplish, though the tables were ready drawn for it. About the same time, the first letter of his name, in an inscription upon one of his statues, was struck out by lightning; which was interpreted as a presage that he would live only a hundred days longer, the letter C denoting that number; and that he would be placed amongst the Gods, as Aesar, which is the remaining part of the word Caesar, signifies, in the Tuscan language, a God 252. Being, therefore, about dispatching Tiberius to Illyricum, and designing to go with him as far as Beneventum, but being detained by several persons who applied to him respecting causes they had depending, he cried out, (and it was afterwards regarded as an omen of his death), “Not all the business in the world, shall detain me at home one moment longer;” and setting out upon his journey, he went (143) as far as Astura 253; whence, contrary to his custom, he put to sea in the night-time, as there was a favourable wind.

XCVIII. His malady proceeded from diarrhoea; notwithstanding which, he went round the coast of Campania, and the adjacent islands, and spent four days in that of Capri; where he gave himself up entirely to repose and relaxation. Happening to sail by the bay of Puteoli, the passengers and mariners aboard a ship of Alexandria 254, just then arrived, clad all in white, with chaplets upon their heads, and offering incense, loaded him with praises and joyful acclamations, crying out, “By you we live, by you we sail securely, by you enjoy our liberty and our fortunes.” At which being greatly pleased, he distributed to each of those who attended him, forty gold pieces, requiring from them an assurance on oath, not to employ the sum given them in any other way, than the purchase of Alexandrian merchandize. And during several days afterwards, he distributed Togae 255 and Pallia, among other gifts, on condition that the Romans should use the Greek, and the Greeks the Roman dress and language. He likewise constantly attended to see the boys perform their exercises, according to an ancient custom still continued at Capri. He gave them likewise an entertainment in his presence, and not only permitted, but required from them the utmost freedom in jesting, and scrambling for fruit, victuals, and other things which he threw amongst them. In a word, he indulged himself in all the ways of amusement he could contrive.

He called an island near Capri, Apragopolis, “The City of the Do-littles,” from the indolent life which several of his party led there. A favourite of his, one Masgabas 256, he used (144) to call Ktistaes, as if he had been the planter of the island. And observing from his room a great company of people with torches, assembled at the tomb of this Masgabas, who died the year before, he uttered very distinctly this verse, which he made extempore.

Ktistou de tumbo, eisoro pyroumenon.  
Blazing with lights I see the founder’s tomb.

Then turning to Thrasyllus, a companion of Tiberius, who reclined on the other side of the table, he asked him, who knew nothing about the matter, what poet he thought was the author of that verse; and on his hesitating to reply, he added another:

Oras phaessi Masgaban timomenon.  
Honor’d with torches Masgabas you see;

and put the same question to him concerning that likewise. The latter replying, that, whoever might be the author, they were excellent verses 257, he set up a great laugh, and fell into an extraordinary vein of jesting upon it. Soon afterwards, passing over to Naples, although at that time greatly disordered in his bowels by the frequent returns of his disease, he sat out the exhibition of the gymnastic games which were performed in his honour every five years, and proceeded with Tiberius to the place intended. But on his return, his disorder increasing, he stopped at Nola, sent for Tiberius back again, and had a long discourse with him in private; after which, he gave no further attention to business of any importance.

XCIX. Upon the day of his death, he now and then enquired, if there was any disturbance in the town on his account; and calling for a mirror, he ordered his hair to be combed, and his shrunk cheeks to be adjusted. Then asking his friends who were admitted into the room, “Do ye think that I have acted my part on the stage of life well?” he immediately subjoined,

Ei de pan echei kalos, to paignio  
Dote kroton, kai pantes umeis meta charas ktupaesate.

If all be right, with joy your voices raise,  
In loud applauses to the actor’s praise.

(145) After which, having dismissed them all, whilst he was inquiring of some persons who were just arrived from Rome, concerning Drusus’s daughter, who was in a bad state of health, he expired suddenly, amidst the kisses of Livia, and with these words: “Livia! live mindful of our union; and now, farewell!” dying a very easy death, and such as he himself had always wished for. For as often as he heard that any person had died quickly and without pain, he wished for himself and his friends the like euthanasian (an easy death), for that was the word he made use of. He betrayed but one symptom, before he breathed his last, of being delirious, which was this: he was all on a sudden much frightened, and complained that he was carried away by forty men. But this was rather a presage, than any delirium: for precisely that number of soldiers belonging to the pretorian cohort, carried out his corpse.

C. He expired in the same room in which his father Octavius had died, when the two Sextus’s, Pompey and Apuleius, were consuls, upon the fourteenth of the calends of September [the 19th August], at the ninth hour of the day, being seventy-six years of age, wanting only thirty-five days 258. His remains were carried by the magistrates of the municipal 259 towns and colonies, from Nola to Bovillae 260, and in the nighttime, because of the season of the year. During the intervals, the body lay in some basilica, or great temple, of each town. At Bovillae it was met by the Equestrian Order, who carried it to the city, and deposited it in the vestibule of his own house. The senate proceeded with so much zeal in the arrangement of his funeral, and paying honour to his memory, that, amongst several other proposals, some were for having the funeral procession made through the triumphal gate, preceded by the image of Victory which is in the senate-house, and the children of highest rank and of both sexes singing the funeral (146) dirge. Others proposed, that on the day of the funeral, they should lay aside their gold rings, and wear rings of iron; and others, that his bones should be collected by the priests of the principal colleges. One likewise proposed to transfer the name of August to September, because he was born in the latter, but died in the former. Another moved, that the whole period of time, from his birth to his death, should be called the Augustan age, and be inserted in the calendar under that title. But at last it was judged proper to be moderate in the honours paid to his memory. Two funeral orations were pronounced in his praise, one before the temple of Julius, by Tiberius; and the other before the rostra, under the old shops, by Drusus, Tiberius’s son. The body was then carried upon the shoulders of senators into the Campus Martius, and there burnt. A man of pretorian rank affirmed upon oath, that he saw his spirit ascend from the funeral pile to heaven. The most distinguished persons of the equestrian order, bare-footed, and with their tunics loose, gathered up his relics 261, and deposited them in the mausoleum, which had been built in his sixth consulship between the Flaminian Way and the bank of the Tiber 262; at which time likewise he gave the groves and walks about it for the use of the people.

CI. He had made a will a year and four months before his death, upon the third of the nones of April [the 11th of April], in the consulship of Lucius Plancus, and Caius Silius. It consisted of two skins of parchment, written partly in his own hand, and partly by his freedmen Polybius and Hilarian; and had been committed to the custody of the Vestal Virgins, by whom it was now produced, with three codicils under seal, as well as the will: all these were opened and read in the senate. He appointed as his direct heirs, Tiberius for two (147) thirds of his estate, and Livia for the other third, both of whom he desired to assume his name. The heirs in remainder were Drusus, Tiberius’s son, for one third, and Germanicus with his three sons for the residue. In the third place, failing them, were his relations, and several of his friends. He left in legacies to the Roman people forty millions of sesterces; to the tribes 263 three millions five hundred thousand; to the pretorian troops a thousand each man; to the city cohorts five hundred; and to the legions and soldiers three hundred each; which several sums he ordered to be paid immediately after his death, having taken due care that the money should be ready in his exchequer. For the rest he ordered different times of payment. In some of his bequests he went as far as twenty thousand sesterces, for the payment of which he allowed a twelvemonth; alleging for this procrastination the scantiness of his estate; and declaring that not more than a hundred and fifty millions of sesterces would come to his heirs: notwithstanding that during the twenty preceding years, he had received, in legacies from his friends, the sum of fourteen hundred millions; almost the whole of which, with his two paternal estates 264, and others which had been left him, he had spent in the service of the state. He left orders that the two Julias, his daughter and grand-daughter, if anything happened to them, should not be buried in his tomb 265. With regard to the three codicils before-mentioned, in one of them he gave orders about his funeral; another contained a summary of his acts, which he intended should be inscribed on brazen plates, and placed in front of his mausoleum; in the third he had drawn up a concise account of the state of the empire; the number of troops enrolled, what money there was in the treasury, the revenue, and arrears of taxes; to which were added the names of the freedmen and slaves from whom the several accounts might be taken.

* * * * * *

(148) OCTAVIUS CAESAR, afterwards Augustus, had now attained to the same position in the state which had formerly been occupied by Julius Caesar; and though he entered upon it by violence, he continued to enjoy it through life with almost uninterrupted tranquillity. By the long duration of the late civil war, with its concomitant train of public calamities, the minds of men were become less averse to the prospect of an absolute government; at the same time that the new emperor, naturally prudent and politic, had learned from the fate of Julius the art of preserving supreme power, without arrogating to himself any invidious mark of distinction. He affected to decline public honours, disclaimed every idea of personal superiority, and in all his behaviour displayed a degree of moderation which prognosticated the most happy effects, in restoring peace and prosperity to the harassed empire. The tenor of his future conduct was suitable to this auspicious commencement. While he endeavoured to conciliate the affections of the people by lending money to those who stood in need of it, at low interest, or without any at all, and by the exhibition of public shows, of which the Romans were remarkably fond; he was attentive to the preservation of a becoming dignity in the government, and to the correction of morals. The senate, which, in the time of Sylla, had increased to upwards of four hundred, and, during the civil war, to a thousand, members, by the admission of improper persons, he reduced to six hundred; and being invested with the ancient office of censor, which had for some time been disused, he exercised an arbitrary but legal authority over the conduct of every rank in the state; by which he could degrade senators and knights, and inflict upon all citizens an ignominious sentence for any immoral or indecent behaviour. But nothing contributed more to render the new form of government acceptable to the people, than the frequent distribution of corn, and sometimes largesses, amongst the commonalty: for an occasional scarcity of provisions had always been the chief cause of discontents and tumults in the capital. To the interests of the army he likewise paid particular attention. It was by the assistance of the legions that he had risen to power; and they were the men who, in the last resort, if such an emergency should ever occur, could alone enable him to preserve it.

History relates, that after the overthrow of Antony, Augustus held a consultation with Agrippa and Mecaenas about restoring the republican form of government; when Agrippa gave his opinion in favour of that measure, and Mecaenas opposed it. (149) The object of this consultation, in respect to its future consequences on society, is perhaps the most important ever agitated in any cabinet, and required, for the mature discussion of it, the whole collective wisdom of the ablest men in the empire. But this was a resource which could scarcely be adopted, either with security to the public quiet, or with unbiassed judgment in the determination of the question. The bare agitation of such a point would have excited immediate and strong anxiety for its final result; while the friends of a republican government, who were still far more numerous than those of the other party, would have strained every nerve to procure a determination in their own favour; and the pretorian guards, the surest protection of Augustus, finding their situation rendered precarious by such an unexpected occurrence, would have readily listened to the secret propositions and intrigues of the republicans for securing their acquiescence to the decision on the popular side. If, when the subject came into debate, Augustus should be sincere in the declaration to abide by the resolution of the council, it is beyond all doubt, that the restoration of a republican government would have been voted by a great majority of the assembly. If, on the contrary, he should not be sincere, which is the more probable supposition, and should incur the suspicion of practising secretly with members for a decision according to his wish, he would have rendered himself obnoxious to the public odium, and given rise to discontents which might have endangered his future security.

But to submit this important question to the free and unbiased decision of a large assembly was likely neither agreeable to Augustus nor, in his view, compatible with his personal safety. In his pursuit of unconstitutional power, he had once abandoned the cause of the republic when it was flourishing; and now that his goal was achieved, there was little reason to expect that he would voluntarily relinquish the prize for which he had shed the best blood of Rome and struggled for so many years. Since the final defeat of Antony at the battle of Actium, he had ruled the Roman state with unchecked authority; and though absolute power is, by its very nature, intoxicating and detrimental to both public and private virtue, all of history disproves the idea that such power is in any way disagreeable to the general human appetite.

Augustus was probably motivated by two main factors as he considered this critical issue: a desire for power, and the personal danger he might face upon giving it up. Either motive alone could have been sufficient reason to keep his authority, but where they both worked together, as they seemed to in this situation, their combined influence would be overwhelming. The argument about his love of power seems undeniable in its validity; but it is worth quickly examining the basis for the personal danger he feared he might face if he returned to private citizenship.

Augustus, as previously mentioned, had once supported the faction trying to restore public liberty after Julius Caesar’s death. Yet later, he abandoned the popular cause and joined Antony and Lepidus in their ambitions to take over the whole state for themselves. By switching sides, he turned his weapons on those defending a government he had previously recognized as legitimate; this exposed him to a direct charge of treason against the representatives of that government—the consuls, who were formally and legally elected. On such a charge, he could be prosecuted under the country’s capital laws. However, this danger could easily have been averted by securing an act of amnesty from the senate and people before giving up the supreme power—a gesture they would surely have approved and ratified unanimously. It appears, therefore, that he faced no unavoidable threat from this source; but there was another avenue where he remained vulnerable, and where even legal protections might not save him from private revenge. The bloody proscriptions of the Triumvirate could never be erased by any amnesty from the memory of those who lost their dearest relatives; and among the many family members of the illustrious men slaughtered in that horror, someone might arise whose unending anger would not be satisfied by anything less than the blood of the last remaining offender. Though Augustus, then, might not be killed in the senate-house like his famous predecessor, he could fall by the sword or dagger in a less public place. Nevertheless, even this risk appears small, since Sylla—who had committed similar atrocities in the previous era—was allowed, after stepping down as perpetual dictator, to end his days undisturbed; and the lasting safety Augustus enjoyed afterwards proves that all concerns about personal danger were baseless.

(151) Until now, we have considered this great decision as it may have been shaped by Augustus’ passions and prejudices; now let us briefly view it from a political perspective, connected to public benefit. The arguments recorded in history regarding this matter are rare and incomplete; but they can be expanded based on generally accepted principles for both sides.

In support of restoring the republic, it could be argued that, from the expulsion of the kings to Julius Caesar’s dictatorship—a period of more than 460 years—the Roman state, with only a brief exception, had prospered and grown in a way unmatched in human history: that the republican form of government was not only best suited for advancing national greatness, but also for ensuring general liberty, the primary goal of political society: that public virtue, essential for the strength of nations, was promoted and protected better under a system that closely tied individual interests to the common good: that the customs and beliefs of the Romans were unshakably attached to their long-established government and would not tolerate one-man rule for long without trying every means to reclaim their liberty: that, although rule by a mild and wise despot might, in some ways, be preferable to a constitution sometimes bothered by faction and popular unrest, it was hazardous to risk national government on the unpredictable qualities of rulers that come in succession; and, on the whole, that the people’s interests were more safely placed in the hands of annual magistrates they elected than with any individual wielding permanent, uncontrolled authority.

In favor of autocratic government, one might argue that, although Rome had thrived for a long time under the republic, she had also suffered violent disturbances from mob riots and elite factions that nearly destroyed her: that a republic only fit a society where property was so divided that no class had dominance threatening public liberty: that such a political system required a simple lifestyle and strict morals never seen with high national prosperity: that, for all these reasons, the republican form did not work for the Romans’ current circumstances; for by conquering foreign nations, corrupt provincial governorships, spoils won in war, and peacetime plunder, some families had gained such overwhelming wealth in the previous era that, even if the old constitution remained, the people would live not in a real republic but under aristocratic domination—always a source of tyranny: that only firm and energetic rule by a single person with all executive power could save the commonwealth from falling to a daring oligarchy or collapse into anarchy: that just as Rome had been brought to maturity under six consecutive monarchs, so now, only a similar government could save her from either aristocratic tyranny or total disorder.

Whichever argument is considered stronger, it seems Augustus’s final choice was led by personal inclination and prejudice rather than reason. Nevertheless, it is said that, torn between his two main advisers’ differing opinions, he turned to Virgil, who sided with Mecaenas in recommending that he keep the imperial power, as the government best suited to the current times.

It is appropriate here to describe the two ministers just mentioned—Agrippa and Mecaenas—who formed Augustus’s main council during the establishment of his government, and who appear to have been his only ministers throughout his reign.

M. Vipsanius Agrippa was of humble origin but became distinguished by his military talent. He defeated Sextus Pompey; and in the battles of Philippi and Actium, he showed outstanding courage and contributed greatly to Augustus’s rise to power. Later, in campaigns in Gaul and Germany, he accomplished many notable feats, for which he refused the honors of a triumph. The funds others would have spent on such a fleeting show, he used instead for the worthier aim of beautifying Rome, building, among other things, the Pantheon, which still stands. After a dispute with Marcellus, Augustus’s nephew, he withdrew to Mitylene, (153) from which, after two years, he was recalled by the emperor. He first married Pomponia, daughter of the well-known Atticus, and later one of the Marcellas, nieces of Augustus. While still married to this woman, with whom he had children, the emperor persuaded his sister Octavia to give up her son-in-law, marrying him to his own daughter Julia; such was Augustus’s wish for a closer alliance. The high level of favor he enjoyed with Augustus soon became even clearer: during a two-year visit to Greece and Asia, Augustus left the empire under Agrippa’s care. Agrippa not only enjoyed, but seems to have deserved, all Augustus’s affection, and was also popular with the people. He died in Rome at sixty-one, deeply mourned, and was buried in the tomb Augustus had made for himself. By Julia, Agrippa left three sons—Caius, Lucius, and Posthumus Agrippa—and two daughters, Agrippina and Julia.

C. Cilnius Mecaenas was of Etruscan descent, tracing his ancestry to that country’s ancient kings. Although deeply favored by Augustus, he never sought to rise beyond the equestrian order; though he could have governed large provinces by proxy, he was satisfied with the prefecture of the city and Italy—a post that still offered great patronage. He was cheerful and sociable by nature. He is said to have been an Epicurean in philosophy and somewhat effeminate in style and manners. Judging his political ability is difficult, but since he was the trusted minister of so shrewd a prince at the dawn of a new regime over a large empire, we may assume he was unusually fit for that important role. His generous encouragement of writers and thinkers ensures his name endures in literary history. Sadly, history gives few details of this remarkable man, and most information comes from Virgil and Horace; but the way they address him, even with their close relationship, strongly suggests he was as admirable in private life as he was distinguished publicly. “O my glory!” is the striking phrase used by them both.

(154)  
O decus, O famae merito pars maxima nostrae. Vir. Georg. ii.  
Light of my life, my glory, and my guide!  
O et praesidium et dulce decus meum. Hor. Ode I. My glory and my patron thou!

One might suspect there was a subtlety in how the Romans used the word *decus* that we do not now understand, and that in these cases it referred to the honor of the emperor’s patronage, received through Mecaenas; otherwise, such accolades to a minister might have aroused Augustus’s jealousy. However, whatever the basis for this theory, the compliment was dwarfed by the lavish praise the poets directed toward the emperor, whose deification is more than hinted at in Virgil’s lofty verses.

Tuque adeo quem mox quae sint habitura deorum  
 Concilia, incertum est; urbisne invisere, Caesar,  
 Terrarumque velis curam; et te maximus orbis  
 Auctorem frugum, tempestatumque potentem  
 Accipiat, cingens materna tempora myrto:  
 An Deus immensi venias maris, ac tua nautae  
 Numina sola colant: tibi serviat ultima Thule;  
 Teque sibi generum Tethys emat omnibus undis. Geor. i. 1. 25, vi.

Thou Caesar, chief where’er thy voice ordain  
 To fix midst gods thy yet unchosen reign—  
 Wilt thou o’er cities fix thy guardian sway,  
 While earth and all her realms thy nod obey?

The world's vast orb shall acknowledge your genial power,  
Giver of fruits, fair sun, and favoring shower;  
Before your altar grateful nations bow,

And with maternal myrtle crown your brow;  
Across the boundless ocean your power shall prevail,  
The world of waters shall hail you as its sole lord,  
Rule where the sea washes remote Thule,  
While Tethys endows your bride with all her waves. —Sotheby

Horace has elegantly continued the same style of compliment.

Te multa prece, te prosequitur mero  
Defuso pateris; et Laribus tuum  
Miscet numen, uti Graecia Castoris  
Et magni memor Herculis. Carm. IV. 5.

To you he chants the sacred song,  
To you the rich libation pours;  
You placed among his household gods,  
With solemn daily prayer adores.  
So Castor and great Hercules of old,  
Were, by grateful Greece, joined with her gods.

(155) The praise given to Augustus by the great poets of his era seems to have served a purpose beyond just flattering his vanity. Augustus aimed to rule the hearts of his citizens as well as their actions, hoping to endear himself to their imaginations. He and Mecaenas both had a refined appreciation for the beauties of poetic composition; and, judging by their own sensitivities, they believed in the powerful influence of poetry. With these beliefs, it became important to enlist the Muses in service of the imperial authority. For this reason, we find Mecaenas persuading Propertius, and likely every other emerging poet, to undertake an epic poem with Augustus as its hero. Since the approach to Propertius could not have happened until after Augustus had been already amply praised by the greater talents of Virgil and Horace, it seems reasonable to assign a political motive to Mecaenas’s request. Caius and Lucius, Augustus’s grandsons by his daughter Julia, were still young and alive at the time. As one of them was surely intended to succeed Augustus, it was prudent to use every method available to secure a peaceful succession after Augustus’s death. Thus, the previously mentioned measure was seen as especially plausible, and the Roman leadership embraced the idea of reinforcing imperial authority through poetic fame. Satires against the government were common even under Augustus, and refined praise of the emperor acted to counter their effect on public opinion. This idea may have been novel during Augustus’s time, but history later shows it was adopted under other government forms with success.

The Roman empire under Augustus had reached an enormous size; in his will, Augustus advised his successors never to expand beyond its current limits. To the east, it reached the Euphrates; to the south, the cataracts of the Nile, the deserts of Africa, and Mount Atlas; to the west, the Atlantic Ocean; and to the north, the Danube and the Rhine, including the best parts of the known world. The Romans were rightly called rerum domini 266, Rome, pulcherrima rerum 267, maxima rerum 268. Even the historians Livy and Tacitus (156), inspired by admiration, gave Rome magnificent titles. Later emperors, following Augustus’s counsel, made few additions to the empire. Trajan, however, conquered Mesopotamia and Armenia, east of the Euphrates, as well as Dacia north of the Danube; and after this, Roman control extended into Britain as far as the Firth of Forth and the Clyde.

It would be interesting to determine the amount of Roman revenue in Augustus’s reign; but such analysis, even for contemporary nations, is difficult without access to official records, and for an ancient empire, it's impossible. We only know that the revenue must have been immense, coming from the combined contributions of numerous wealthy nations, many celebrated for riches and trade. The taxes paid by Roman citizens in support of government were significant even in the late republic, and increased after the consulship of Hirtius and Pansa. Civil and military establishments in each province were funded locally; the emperor required only a small naval force—a costly arm for modern maritime nations—and there were no diplomatic expenses. The vast wealth from various taxes poured into Rome, all under the emperor’s control. Thus, we may rightly conclude that in total revenue—taxes, customs, and other resources—Augustus surpassed all previous rulers of imperial power; a remarkable advantage, had later emperors used it wisely to promote public happiness, with even half the extravagance with which it was later wasted in degrading humanity and violating human rights.

The reign of Augustus is marked by the most extraordinary event in either sacred or secular history: the birth of the Saviour of mankind. This event established a new era in the chronology of all Christian nations. As this new age coincided with the Roman empire’s period of greatest prosperity, a general overview of the state of knowledge and culture at that time may not be out of place here.

Civilization at this period reached farther than ever before, but polytheism increased rather than decreased with the growth of commerce (157) between Europe, Asia, and Africa. Philosophy had been cultivated for ages at Athens, Cyrene, Rome, and other centers of learning, yet people's morals were little improved by expanded intellectual speculation. Socrates had laid a brilliant foundation for improving human character by applying reason throughout life; but later thinkers strayed from the true path of ethics into clever but mostly futile debates, some even embracing principles directly opposed to reason, constructing systems more to showcase their originality than to benefit society. The doctrines of the Stoics and Epicureans were, in fact, damaging to society; those of the various academies, though more closely tied to reason, were often too abstract to affect daily life and conduct. General discussions of truth and probability, with grand remarks on the to kalon and the summum bonum, occupied the attention of those who pursued moral philosophy in the academic cloisters. Cicero tried to restore philosophy’s practical force, clearly showing that social duties were rooted in unchanging virtue; but while proving these principles was one thing, getting people to follow them was another, since conduct was rarely led by reason alone.

The leading science at this time was rhetoric, which seems to have been quite different from modern rhetoric. Its aim was less about accuracy of thought and proper expression, and more about the art of declamation—speaking at length on any topic. Varro described it as the opposite of logic; they are compared by a simile, rhetoric resembling an open palm, logic a closed fist. Notably, logic, though part of modern education, appears not to have been studied by the Romans. Perhaps they feared that a field which focused argumentative force could undermine the extensive style of rhetoric. Astronomy was understood in the East long before, but, as Virgil 269 suggests, was scarcely studied by the Romans; and, in reforming the calendar, Julius Caesar relied on the expertise of (158) Sosigenes, an Alexandrian mathematician. The workings of the solar system were still imperfectly understood; the common belief that the sun revolved around the earth was universally accepted until Copernicus proved the opposite in the sixteenth century. There were many notable works in mathematics, and several mechanical principles, such as the lever, were well understood. The basic principles of arithmetic were generally known. Since the lodestone’s properties were still unknown, navigation during the day relied on the sun and, at night, on certain stars. Geography advanced in this period through Strabo and Mela. In natural philosophy, only modest progress was made, though Virgil, among others, expressed a strong desire to see it advance. Without human anatomy, physiology was incomplete. Chemistry, as a science, was entirely unknown. In medicine, the works of Hippocrates and other Greek doctors were the primary guides, but the Materia Medica included few reliable remedies and was filled with ineffective substances, many based only on the strange opinions of their creators. Architecture thrived under the refined taste of Vitruvius and the emperor’s patronage. Painting, sculpture, and music were practiced, but not at the level they had reached in the Greek states. The musical instruments of this era were primarily the flute and the lyre, as well as the sistrum, recently brought from Egypt. However, the chief glory of this period is its literature, to which we now turn.

At the top of the writers of this age were the emperor himself and his minister Mecaenas, though the works of both have almost entirely vanished. According to the historian translated here, Augustus wrote several prose works, as well as some poetry. He authored Answers to Brutus regarding Cato, Exhortations to Philosophy, and a History of his Life, which he continued in thirteen books up to the Cantabrian war. In Suetonius’s time, a book of his was extant, written in hexameter verse, titled Sicily, as well as a book of Epigrams. He began a tragedy about Ajax, but destroyed it out of dissatisfaction. Whatever Augustus’s merit as an author—a judgment we cannot make—his support of learning and gifted writers is strong evidence of his taste. Mecaenas is said to have written two tragedies, Octavia and Prometheus; a History of (159) Animals; a Treatise on Precious Stones; a Journal of Augustus's Life; and other works. There is a real curiosity to know the literary abilities of a man so notable for appreciating and supporting writers, but while we regret our inability to evaluate him directly, we can hardly imagine his literary skill was small, given such deep love and admiration.

History was enthusiastically pursued among the Romans during this era. This literary form was valued both for instruction and entertainment; but its primary purpose was to record events so that people could draw lessons from the past, enabling predictions of the future, and by seeing the causes of prosperity or misfortune, understand how to achieve or avoid them. This useful genre began about five hundred years earlier with Herodotus, known as the Father of History. His style, fitting for an unsophisticated age, is simple and plain; yet, with the melodic Ionic dialect, it pleased the ear and provided Greece with enjoyable stories, sprinkled with all sorts of information—often fanciful or unverified—as well as foundational hints of political wisdom. After Herodotus, Thucydides and Xenophon appeared, the former taking historical writing to its highest point among Greek states. The model of Thucydides remained the benchmark for Roman historians; but the circumstances of the times, and perhaps the brilliance of other Roman literary figures, inspired a new approach that aimed not only to enliven but beautify future historical works. This innovation was an attempt to probe the human heart, exploring in its depths the feelings and motives driving human action. By connecting moral effects with their probable causes, both internal and external, this method aimed to bring a coherent logic to chains of events that might otherwise seem random, accidental, or unconnected.

The author of this improvement in historical writing was SALLUST, who also introduced the technique of enlivening narratives with occasional rhetorical speeches, especially notable in his account of the Catilinarian conspiracy. The infamous (160) personalities and motives of the main figures involved in that terrible plot gave him the perfect opportunity to demonstrate his approach; while, regarding the latter, there is reason to believe—based on facts that must have been publicly known at the time—that his narrative was built on documents of unquestionable authority. Indeed, it is likely that Sallust was present in the Senate during the debate about the punishment of the Catilinarian conspirators; his description of it matches the known characters of the various speakers. However, by downplaying, either through pointed omission or too faint praise, Cicero’s contributions during that key moment, Sallust provides a striking example of the bias that too often tarnishes the work of those chronicling their own times. Sallust had married Terentia, Cicero’s former wife, and a rivalry existed between the two men for this reason, likely accompanied by political animosity during Julius Caesar’s recent dictatorship. Sallust, who had been expelled from the Senate for his licentiousness, was restored to his position by Caesar and appointed governor of Numidia. Aside from his unfair treatment of Cicero, Sallust deserves high praise. In both his surviving works, *The Conspiracy of Catiline* and *The War of Jugurtha*, there is a unique philosophical tone which, combined with his elegantly concise style and vivid characterization, brings to his writing an interest and vitality greater than anything found in earlier historical works. Though he occasionally uses archaic words and begins both histories with elaborate introductions—criticisms sometimes leveled at him for affectation—this stylistic choice adds dignity without causing displeasure; and his philosophical sentiments elevate human nature and inspire virtue. It is clear that Sallust aimed to make up for the excesses of his youth by completely reforming his conduct; anyone who reads his introductions with the attention they merit must be strongly persuaded both by the truth of his observations and tempted to follow his example. From the onset of his reformation, he appears to have practiced the diligence he promotes. He wrote a history of Rome of which only a few fragments survive. During his tenure as governor of Numidia, Sallust is said to have been harsh and oppressive. Upon his return to Rome, he built a magnificent house and purchased beautiful gardens, the names of which, along with his own, are still associated with that location. Sallust was born at Amiternum, in Sabine country, and (161) was educated at Rome. He became infamous for an affair with Fausta, the daughter of Sulla and the wife of Milo; Milo, discovering the affair, reportedly beat Sallust and forced him to pay a large sum of money. Sallust died, according to tradition, at the age of fifty-one.

CORNELIUS NEPOS was born at Hostilia, near the banks of the Po. Nothing is recorded about his parents; yet, given his respectable associations early in life, it is likely he came from a good family. Among his closest friends were Cicero and Atticus. Some accounts state that he wrote three books of *Chronicles*, which included biographical accounts of all the most renowned rulers, generals, and writers of antiquity.

Cornelius Nepos’s language is pure, his style clear, and he skillfully balances between expansiveness and brevity. He does not treat every subject in the same way; for some biographies are so short one might believe they are incomplete, if not for clear signs that they were intentionally written in miniature. The breadth of his project, as he himself tells us, led him to this approach: “Sed plura persequi, tum magnitudo voluminis prohibet, tum festinatio, ut ea explicem, quae exorsus sum.” 270

Of his many biographical works, only twenty-two lives survive; all are of Greeks, except for two Carthaginians—Hamilcar and Hannibal—and two Romans, M. Porcius Cato and T. Pomponius Atticus. Ironically, though he chronicled so many others, no account of Cornelius Nepos’s own life is preserved; but from his numerous works, we can infer he devoted his life to literature.

TITUS LIVIUS ranks among the most celebrated historians of all time. He wrote a history of Rome from its founding to the conclusion of the German war under Drusus during Emperor Augustus’s reign. The original work comprised 140 books; of these, only thirty-five remain: the first decade, and everything from book twenty-one to book forty-five, inclusive. Of the remaining 105 books, only summaries have survived the passing of time and foreign invasions. With his clear organization, detailed accounts, skillful character portrayals, sound judgment, and the majestic (162) tone that permeates the entire work, Livy stands as one of the finest models of historical narrative. His style is brilliant without being showy, and abundant without being verbose, a flow Quintilian aptly describes as “lactea ubertas.” Among his notable qualities—apart from the lively speeches he frequently includes—are the concise and fitting tributes he provides for each distinguished figure upon their death. His thoroughness in examining sources and his judgment in weighing conflicting accounts are evident throughout. Livy’s independence and fairness, even when recounting recent history, were proven by the fact that Augustus teased him for favoring Pompey. Under the same emperor, Livy not only warmly praised Cicero but also dared, in an age when their names were still controversial, to credit Brutus and Cassius for the virtues of consistency and patriotism. If Livy ever detracts from historical dignity, it is in the almost reverent manner with which he relates the widespread belief in omens and prodigies. But this was the prevailing superstition of his era, and to fully abandon such prejudices is the last great act of philosophical skepticism. Overall, Livy’s tendency toward credulity seems more feigned than genuine; his account of the death of Romulus, in the following excerpt, illustrates this point.

“After these immortal exploits, while he was holding an assembly to review the troops in the field near the Lake of Capreae, a sudden storm arose with violent thunder that so thickly enveloped the king in a cloud, that his presence was withdrawn from the assembly; and henceforth Romulus was seen no more on earth. When the panic at last subsided and calm returned after so tumultuous a day, the young Romans, finding the royal seat empty, believed the senators who were nearest had seen Romulus swept up by a whirlwind. Yet, as if struck by a sense of loss, they remained for some time in mournful silence. Then, prompted by a few, all together hailed Romulus as a god, the divine founder of Rome, and prayed for his continued blessing on their descendants. Yet, I think even then, some quietly accused the senators of having killed the king, for this dark suspicion also spread. But wonder at the man, and the fear of the moment, lent credence to the other version. One man, Proculus Julius, then added yet more weight to the legend. At a time when Rome, grieving the loss of her king and angered at the Senate, was uncertain, Proculus—respected though he was—came before the people and declared: ‘Romulus, citizens, father of this city, suddenly appeared to me at daybreak from the sky. Overcome with awe, I dared to look upon him only after repeated prayers. He said, “Go and tell the Romans that the gods will that my Rome be the capital of the world; let them continue to excel in warfare and know that no human power will withstand Roman arms.” Having so spoken, he ascended on high.’ The people believed him without hesitation; and faith in Romulus’s immortality softened the grief of the people and the army.” 271

Few stories in ancient history are more fantastic than (164) the account just given regarding Rome’s first king; and in spite of the solemnity of its telling, it is clear the historian is not taken in by blind belief. The phrase “Fuisse credo, etc.” suggests there is more hinted at than stated. Whatever interpretation we choose, the story is puzzling. That Romulus sought unchecked power is highly likely, given his ambition, and is supported by his recent creation of the Celeres as a personal guard. He would naturally arouse the hostility of the patricians, whose influence was diminished and their founding role eroded by his increasing authority. Yet, that they would attempt to eliminate him in the midst of a military review defies basic prudence; it is even more unbelievable since the event that supposedly made it possible is described as purely coincidental. The reported storm does not match how we understand such phenomena; a cloud or mist dense enough to hide Romulus is unlikely to accompany a thunderstorm. It is plausible that both the noise and the cloud, if they even occurred, were artificially produced—the noise to distract those present, the cloud to conceal the event. The word *fragor* (meaning crash or noise) seems superfluous where thunder is already mentioned (though poets sometimes use it so) and might suggest a noise of a different kind. If Romulus was killed with a sharp weapon, there would have been blood; by other means, his body would still have been visible. If the people believed the senators guilty of murder, why didn’t they investigate? And if the senators were innocent, why did they not call for such an inquiry? Clearly, the body was hidden to support a deception. The whole narrative is filled with elements designed to impress people with a sense of national destiny; and, conveniently, there is a gap in Roman history just before this event—a gap closely related to it.

Livy was born at Patavium 272, and Asinius Pollio and others criticized him for using a regional dialect—his so-called Pativinity—which was mainly a matter of spelling in a few words; but these peculiarities do not obscure meaning or deserve serious criticism.

Livy and Sallust are the only two surviving rivals in Roman history, so it is worth briefly comparing their main qualities as writers. In terms of language, Livy shows less obvious affectation than Sallust. Both are distinguished by their elevated style: Sallust’s grandeur often comes from the dignity of assumed virtue, while Livy’s has the majestic tone of history and sometimes national pride. In describing characters, Sallust gives them more vividness, Livy more breadth. The speeches they attribute to their subjects are equally polished and spirited.

Livy’s fame was so great during his life that people traveled from the farthest parts of Spain and Gaul just to see so remarkable a historian, then regarded for his genius as a wonder. This not only proves the cultural appreciation existing then throughout the Roman provinces but also shows how much effort was involved in spreading such a monumental work before printing existed. In the fifteenth century, with the revival of learning in Europe, Livy’s reputation returned to its former glory, and Alphonso of Aragon, in a manner typical of that era’s superstition, asked the people of Padua—Livy’s birthplace and supposed burial site—for the hand that had written so extraordinary a work.—

The fame of VIRGIL has enabled us to determine his birth with greater precision than is usual for ancient writers. He was born at Andes, a village near Mantua, on October 15th, seventy years before the Christian era. His parents were of modest means, but acquired property by their diligence, which Virgil inherited. The first seven years of his life were spent at Cremona; afterwards, he went to Mediolanum (modern Milan), then a center for the liberal arts and, as Pliny the Younger says, called the “New Athens.” Eventually, he moved to Naples, where he devoted himself wholeheartedly to Greek and Roman studies, particularly physical and mathematical sciences, subjects he expresses a strong fondness for in the second book of his *Georgics*.

Me vero primum dulces ante omnia Musae,  
Quarum sacra fero ingenti perculsus amore,  
(166) Accipiant; coelique vias et sidera monstrent;  
Defectus Solis varios, Lunaeque labores:  
Unde tremor terris: qua vi maria alta tumescant  
Obicibus ruptis, rursusque in seipsa residant:  
Quid tantum Oceano properent se tingere soles  
Hiberni: vel quae tardis mora noctibus obstet.  
Geor. ii. 1. 591, etc.

But most beloved, ye Muses, at whose fane,  
Led by pure zeal, I consecrate my strain,  
Me first accept! And to my search unfold,  
Heaven and her host in beauteous order rolled,  
The eclipse that dims the golden orb of day,  
And changeful labour of the lunar ray;  
Whence rocks the earth, by what vast force the main  
Now bursts its barriers, now subsides again;

Why do wintry suns quickly fade into the ocean,  
Or what slows the approach of night’s descending shade. —Sotheby.

After the lands of Cremona and Mantua were divided among the veteran soldiers by order of the Triumvirate, Virgil was fortunate enough to regain his property due to the favor of Asinius Pollio, Augustus’s deputy in those regions; Virgil expressed his gratitude to both Pollio and the emperor in beautiful eclogues.

Virgil’s first major work was the Bucolics, a set of ten eclogues modeled after the Idyllia, or pastoral poems, of Theocritus. It might be debated whether any language with provincial dialects, once it is refined, can ever truly suit the use of pastoral poetry. There is an obvious contrast between the simple thoughts of the country shepherd and the sophisticated language of the courtier, one that even the greatest skill in composition struggles to overcome. Thus, Theocritus’s use of the Doric dialect, aside from its inherent simplicity, gives the Sicilian poet lasting preeminence in this type of poetry. Much of Virgil’s Bucolics can be seen as a unique form of poetry in which the author expertly blends refined verse with native themes and ideas, yet avoids the coarseness of rustic life. Regarding the fourth eclogue, dedicated to Pollio, it is clearly of a loftier nature than traditional pastoral works:

Sicelides Musae, paulo majora canamus.  
Sicilian Muse, let us sing of nobler themes.

Virgil was inspired to write bucolic poetry at the request of Asinius Pollio, whom he deeply admired. He held a particular affection for one of Pollio’s sons (167) and for Cornelius Gallus, also a poet, both of whom he celebrates in these poems. The Bucolics were begun, it is said, when Virgil was twenty-nine, and completed within three years. They were so well received in Rome that after their publication, they were often recited on stage to entertain audiences. Cicero, upon hearing some lines, immediately sensed that these were no ordinary poems and requested the entire eclogue be read; when it was, he declared, “Magnae spes altera Romae.” Another hope of mighty Rome! 273

Virgil’s next major work was the Georgics, inspired by Hesiod’s “Erga kai Hmerai” (Works and Days), the poetry of Ascra. Yet the similarities between the two poets go no further than the choice of subject. Hesiod’s agricultural instructions are straightforward, delivered in the style of an uneducated farmer, interwoven with plain, fitting moral reflections; whereas Virgil’s advice, also clear and important, is presented with all the grandeur of elevated poetry. He addressed the work to Mecaenas, who requested it. The poem is divided into four books: the first deals with plowing; the second, with planting; the third, with livestock—horses, sheep, goats, dogs, and what threatens them; the fourth discusses bees—their homes, food, social order, diseases, cures, how to make honey, and other related matters. The Georgics (168) were written in Naples and occupied Virgil for seven years. It is said Virgil had originally concluded the Georgics with a grand eulogy for his friend Gallus, but after Gallus fell out of Augustus's favor, he replaced it with the celebrated episode of Aristaeus and Eurydice.

These exquisite poems, viewed simply as instruction, are undeniably useful. The agricultural advice was especially well suited to Italy's climate and must have offered excellent guidance to those wishing to learn this highly respected Roman art. The same can be said, even more broadly, about the other topics. Yet as works of poetry, the Georgics stand out for their elevated style, the elegance of the similes and sentiments woven throughout, their beautiful language, their inspired tone, and splendid versification—all making ordinary subjects shine with poetic grandeur.

When Augustus spent four days at Atella resting after the battle of Actium, Virgil, having just finished the Georgics, read them aloud to the emperor, occasionally relieved by his friend Mecaenas. Imagine Augustus’s pleasure, discovering that while he had been earning glory in war, another laurel wreath was being prepared by the Muses to crown his achievements—and hinted that he would be celebrated even further in a work devoted to heroic deeds.

It is generally believed that the Aeneid was written at the special request of Augustus, who wanted the Julian family to be traced as direct descendants of the Trojan Aeneas. In this renowned poem, Virgil skillfully unites the qualities of the Iliad and the Odyssey, blending them so well that both enhance the overall effect. The empathy and admiration stirred for Aeneas’s devotion to his father and for his sufferings at Troy’s fall draw the reader into the hero’s later adventures; each new challenge on the Trojans’ way to their promised land, Hesperia, brings a renewed sense of admiration and connection. The poem’s episodes, characters, and events all contribute to its beauty and majesty. The image of burning Troy remains (169) unforgettable! Homer’s unmatched portrait of Priam is beautifully reimagined in Anchises’s character in the Aeneid. The wild prophetic energy of the Cumaean Sibyl reveals Virgil’s own poetic enthusiasm. The episode of Dido stands as a masterpiece for sentiment, passion, and vivid storytelling. Yet Virgil is not only remarkable for vivid description, but for fitting and powerful sentiment; where he adopts ideas from Homer, he develops them with his unique insight. One notable example: In Book Six of the Iliad, the Greeks are slaughtering Trojans, and Hector, upon Helenus’s advice, returns to Troy so his mother can offer prayers and a sacrifice to the goddess Pallas for help against Diomede. Right before he returns to battle, Hector has a final meeting with Andromache, who is with their son Astyanax, carried by a nurse. The scene where Hector plays with his son and prays for his future greatness is one of the Iliad’s most moving. Similarly, Aeneas, about to fight Turnus, addresses his son Ascanius in a stirring speech. Rather than a prayer, he offers grand advice suitable to a young man nearly grown. It reads:

Disce, puer, virtutem ex me, verumque laborem;  
Fortunam ex aliis; nunc te mea dextera bello  
Defensum dabit, et magna inter praemia ducet.  
Tu facito, mox cum matura adoleverit aetas,  
Sis memor: et te animo repetentem exempla tuorum,  
Et pater Aeneas, et avunculus excitet Hector.—Aeneid, xii.

My son! from my example learn the war  
In camps to suffer, and in feuds to dare,  
But happier chance than mine attend thy care!  
This day my hand thy tender age shall shield,  
And crown with honours of the conquered field:  
Thou when thy riper years shall send thee forth  
To toils of war, be mindful of my worth;  
Assert thy birthright, and in arms be known,  
For Hector’s nephew and Aeneas’ son.

Virgil, gifted in his own right, certainly drew much from the genius of Homer. His vivid and accurate imagination was (170) inspired by the Odyssey and fired by the Iliad. Rivalling—and at times even surpassing—his celebrated predecessor in depicting heroes and gods, he maintains their grandeur so consistently that they seem almost superhuman.

Debate continues as to whether the Iliad or the Aeneid is the greater work, and this question may never be settled to everyone’s satisfaction. Still, in comparing the two poets, we should consider the differences in their situations. Homer composed his poetry in an era when humanity had made little progress in intellectual or imaginative pursuits, relying primarily on his own immense genius. Furthermore, he wrote both epics in a time and state of life not conducive to literary cultivation. Virgil, in contrast, lived in an age of highly developed learning: he not only benefited from Homer’s example, but also drew upon Aristotle’s rules for epic poetry and the insights of the best Greek critics, notably his friend Horace, who comments that

————quandoque bonus dormitat Homerus.—De Arte Poet.

Even the great Homer sometimes nods.

Additionally, Virgil wrote his poem while far from poverty, motivated by the example of several contemporary poets. Most importantly, he wrote both at the request and under the patronage of the emperor and his minister Mecaenas. We do not know how long it took Homer to compose either of his poems, but it is recorded that the Aeneid occupied Virgil for eleven years. For several years, even the persistent requests of Augustus could not persuade him to share even a small sample of the work; but eventually, once the poem was significantly advanced, he agreed to recite three books—the second, the fourth, and the sixth—in the presence of the emperor and his sister Octavia. The reading of the last of these books was intended especially to please Octavia. When Virgil reached the words, Tu Marcellus eris, referring to Octavia’s son—a young man of great promise who had recently died—his mother fainted. After being revived by her attendants, she ordered ten sesterces to be given to Virgil for every line related (171) to that subject; a gift which amounted to about two thousand pounds sterling.

In writing the Aeneid, Virgil did not hesitate to include entire lines from Homer and from the Latin poet Ennius, whose phrases he admired. In a few cases, he also borrowed from Lucretius. He was known for taking great pains to refine his verse, and when uncertain about any passage, he would read it to friends for their feedback. On such occasions, he often consulted his freedman and librarian Erotes, an old household servant, who is said to have instantly supplied two missing lines, which Virgil then asked him to write into the manuscript.

Once this immortal work was finished, Virgil planned to retire to Greece and Asia for three years, so he could spend his time perfecting it, and then devote the rest of his life to philosophical pursuits. However, when he met Augustus at Athens, who was returning from the East, Virgil decided to accompany the emperor back to Rome. During a visit to Megara, near Athens, he became ill; his weakness worsened during the trip home, and he died a few days after landing at Brundisium, on the 22nd of September, in the fifty-second year of his age. He requested that his body be taken to Naples, where he had spent many happy years, and that the following couplet, written during his last illness, be inscribed on his tomb:

Mantua gave me birth; Calabria snatched me away: now  
 Parthenope holds me: I sang of pastures, fields, and leaders. 274

He was buried, by Augustus’s order, with grand funeral honors, about two miles from Naples, near the road to Puteoli, where his tomb still stands. Most of his substantial estate—thanks to the generosity of his friends—went to Valerius Proculus and his brother; a quarter to Augustus, a twelfth to Mecaenas, and he left legacies to L. Varius and Plotius Tucca. These last, following his own request and the order of Augustus, revised and corrected the Aeneid after his death. The emperor instructed them to remove anything they thought inappropriate—but under no circumstances to add anything. This restriction is believed to be why many lines in the Aeneid are incomplete.

Virgil was tall, had a dark complexion, and his (172) features were said not to reveal any remarkable abilities. He suffered from stomach and throat problems, as well as headaches, and frequent episodes of bleeding upwards, though from what part is not specified. He was very moderate in both food and drink. His modesty was so notable that in Naples he was commonly called Parthenias, “the modest man.” An anecdote about his modesty has survived.

After writing a couplet comparing Augustus to Jupiter, Virgil secretly placed it over the gate of the emperor’s palace at night. It read:

Nocte pluit tota, redeunt spectacula mane:  
 Divisum imperium cum Jove Caesar habet.

All night it rained, with morning the games return;  
 Caesar and Jove between them share the year’s rule.

Augustus ordered an investigation to discover the author; Virgil stayed silent, so the verses were claimed by Bathyllus, a mediocre poet who was generously rewarded for them. Annoyed by the impostor’s lie, Virgil once again wrote the verses in a prominent place at the palace, adding this line beneath them:

Hos ego versiculos feci, tulit alter honorem;  
 I wrote the verse, another stole the credit;

with the beginning of another line:

Sic vos, non vobis,  
 Not for yourselves, you——

repeated four times. When Augustus expressed a desire to see the lines completed, and Bathyllus was unable to do so, Virgil at last filled in the blanks with these lines:

Sic vos, non vobis, nidificatis, aves;  
 Sic vos, non vobis, vellera fertis, oves;

 Sic vos, non vobis, mellificatis, apes;  
 Sic vos, non vobis, fertis aratra, boves.

Not for yourselves, birds, do you build your nests;

Not for yourselves, sheep, do you yield your fleece;  
Not for yourselves, bees, do you fill your cells;  
Not for yourselves, oxen, do you plough and till.

This clever device immediately revealed him as the author of the distich, and Bathyllus became an object of public ridicule.

Whenever Virgil came to Rome, if people, as was often the case, gathered to admire him or pointed at him in awe, he would blush and slip away (173) from them, often taking refuge in a shop. When he went to the theatre, the entire audience stood up upon his entrance, as they did for Augustus, welcoming him with loud applause—a tribute that, however highly honorable, he would have preferred to avoid. If such was the deserved respect they paid the author of the Bucolics and Georgics, one can only imagine how much more they would have honored him had they seen him in his full epic glory! In the beautiful episode of the Elysian Fields in the Aeneid, where he skillfully highlighted the greatness of their country, he awakened the deepest enthusiasm in the Romans. Their passion would have turned toward him, and in their fervor, they would have idolized him.

HORACE was born in Venusia on December 10th, during the consulship of L. Cotta and L. Torquatus. He himself said his father was a freedman; some claimed he was a tax collector, and others that he was a fishmonger or a dealer in salted meat. Whatever his profession, he took particular care with his son's education. After receiving instruction from the best teachers in Rome, he sent him to Athens to study philosophy. From there, Horace joined Brutus as a military tribune at the battle of Philippi, but, by his own admission, was seized with fear and abandoned his military career, returning to Rome to devote himself to poetry. Soon after, he became close friends with Virgil and Valerius, whom he mentions in his Satires with the deepest affection.

Postera lux oritur multo gratissima: namque  
 Plotius et Varius Sinuessae, Virgiliusque,  
 Occurrunt; animae, quales neque candidiores  
 Terra tulit, neque queis me sit devinctior alter.  
 O qui complexus, et gaudia quanta fuerunt!  
 Nil ego contulerim jucundo sanus amico.—Sat. I. 5.

Next rising morn with double joy we greet,  
 For Plotius, Varius, Virgil, here we meet:  
 Pure spirits these; the world no purer knows,  
 For none my heart with more affection glows:  
 How oft did we embrace, our joys how great!  
 For sure no blessing in the power of fate  
 Can be compared, in sanity of mind,  
 To friends of such companionable kind.—Francis.

Through these two friends, he was recommended for the patronage not only of Maecenas, but also Augustus, with whom he, like Virgil, enjoyed the greatest intimacy. Content with the luxury he found at the finest tables in (174) Rome, he was so unambitious for public office that when the emperor offered him the post of secretary, he politely declined. But as he lived in style, with a house in the city, a cottage on his Sabine farm, and a villa at Tibur near the falls of the Anio, there is no doubt he enjoyed substantial comfort, thanks to Augustus’s generosity. He allowed himself idleness and social pleasures, yet was also devoted to reading; his health was quite good, though he was often troubled by a discharge of rheum from his eyes.

Horace, in the fervor of youth and fired by imagination, had, while studying Greek literature, drunk deeply at the very source of the inspiring waters of Castalia; and it seems to have always been his great ambition to bring to the plains of Latium the triumph of lyric poetry. Nor did he fail in this aim:

Exegi monumentum aere perennius.—Carm. iii. 30.  
 I have raised a monument more lasting than bronze.

In Greece and elsewhere, the Ode seems to have been not only the most ancient, but also the most popular form of literary creation. Warm in expression and brief in length, it gathers within narrow bounds the fire of poetic passion; for this reason, it has usually been used to celebrate religious fervor, the raptures of love, the enthusiasm of praise, and to inspire warriors to heroic deeds:

Musa dedit fidibus Divos, puerosque Deorum,  
Et pugilem victorem, et equum certamine primum,  
Et juvenum curas, et libera vina referre.—Hor. De Arte Poet.

The Muse tunes her lyre to nobler subjects;

Gods, and sons of Gods, inspire her song;  
The wrestler and steed who won the Olympic prize,  
Love's delights, and the joys of wine.—Francis.

Misenum Aeoliden, quo non praestantior alter  
Aere ciere viros, Martemque accendere cantu. 275  
Virgil, Aeneid, vi.  
............

Sed tum forte cava dum personat aequora concha  
Demens, et canto vocat in certamina Divos.—Ibid.

Misenus, son of Aeolus, well-known  
For sounding the warrior trumpet on the field;  
With brassy breath to kindle fierce alarms,  
And urge men on to meet their fates with honor.

............

(175) Swelled by applause, still seeking more,  
He now challenges the sea-gods from the shore.—Dryden

In this form of poetry among the Greeks, nine poets became famous: Alcaeus, Alcman, Anacreon, Bacchylides, Ibicus, Sappho, Stesichorus, Simonides, and Pindar. Most of these remarkable poets are now known only by name. They appear to have differed from each other not only in the kinds of meter they mainly or exclusively used, but also in the strength or softness, the beauty or grandeur, the lively energy or the easy grace of their various works. We still have examples of love lyrics in Anacreon's odes and Sappho's incomparable ode; the battle-rousing lyric songs have been lost, but the victors at Greece's public games have their glory preserved in Pindar's superb works.

Horace, by embracing almost all the different meters used by the Greek poets in his many subjects, and often combining different meters in one piece, made up for the absence of the Greek dialects (which were so well suited to poetry), and gave to a language less known for soft inflections all the gentle and delicate melodies of Eastern song. While he uses Greek meters with effortless grace, matching their renowned excellence, he also added a stanza unique to himself to the lyric tradition. In carefully crafted Ode structures, he may rightly be regarded as the greatest of lyric poets. In vivid imagery, he equals anyone; in variety of thought and skilful expression, he surpasses every other Greek or Roman poet. He is graceful without being affected, and what is even more notable, he maintains morality amidst lightheartedness. We rarely encounter abrupt apostrophes or outbursts in his Odes; instead, his transitions flow smoothly, with every subject introduced appropriately.

The Carmen Saeculare was written at Augustus's specific request, for the celebration of the Secular Games, held once every hundred years over three days and nights, during which all Rome echoed with the blended sounds of choral hymns to the gods and goddesses and festive joy. Such an occasion, appealing so much to the poet's ambition, called forth his highest creative efforts. Though more concise in mythological references than the hymns attributed to Homer, this beautiful work surpasses all that Greece—sweet in sound but simple in ritual—ever offered in solemn adoration, whether from sacred groves or altar. By their natural talent, the ancients elevated their heroes to heights that inspire awe, but could not go beyond these using myths alone; it fell to a poet with deeper inspiration than the Muses could offer to sing of that Being whose perfect qualities go beyond all human thought. Of all praises of gods and heroes now surviving, there is none more beautiful than Horace's 12th Ode of the first book:

Quem virum aut heroa lyra vel acri  
Tibia sumes celebrare, Clio?  
Quem Deum? cujus recinet jocosa  
Nomen imago,  
Aut in umbrosis Heliconis oris, etc.

What man, what hero, on the tuneful lyre,  
Or sharp-toned flute, will Clio choose to raise,  
Deathless, to fame? What God? whose hallowed name  
The playful echo of the voice  
Shall in the shades of Helicon repeat, etc.

The Satires of Horace are not particularly noted for their poetic harmony, as he himself admits. Indeed, given the style in which many of them are written, it could hardly be otherwise. They are often conversational, sometimes interrogative, with quick transitions and sudden apostrophes. His aim in those compositions was not to delight the ear with the melody of polished verses, but to satirize the weaknesses of human nature, persuade the mind with argument, and thereby shame both the vices and follies of mankind. Satire is a genre in which the Greeks provided no model; and while earlier Roman satirists had improved this form from its original roughness and excess, they had not brought it to the level of perfection needed for moral reform in a refined society. Horace gave it its greatest advancement, skillfully blending wit and reason, teasing and sarcasm, in the cause of morality, virtue, happiness, and truth.

The Epistles of Horace can be considered some of the most valuable works from antiquity. Except for those in the second book, and one or two in the first, they are generally familiar in tone, filled with reflections on morality, and insightful observations on life and manners.

The poem *De Arte Poetica* contains a system of criticism, matching the highest standards in both principle and broad application, corresponding to the many expressions of talent in areas of creativity and taste. (177) In composing this excellent work, he made use of the most well-regarded Greek originals, as we can infer from the advice he gives:

——————  
Vos exemplaria Graeca  
Nocturna versate manu, versate diurna.

Make the Greek authors your supreme delight;  
Read them by day, and study them by night.—Francis.

In Horace’s writings there is a wealth of sound judgment, enlivened by wit, and refined by philosophical insight. He trained his judgment with great diligence, and his taste was directed by an intuitive sense of moral beauty, fitness, and propriety. The few instances of impropriety found in his works are better attributed to the customs of his era than to any fault in the author. Horace died at the age of fifty-seven, surviving his dear friend Maecenas by only three weeks—a fact which, along with a statement in an ode 276 supposedly written during Maecenas’s last illness, has led some to speculate that Horace deliberately ended his own life to follow his friend. But it is more reasonable to conclude that he died of overwhelming grief; had he literally meant to fulfill the vow in his ode, he would have followed his patron more closely. This is further supported by a fact just before his death: though he made Augustus his sole heir, he was too weak to sign his will, something he likely would have arranged if his death had been premeditated. He was buried, as he wished, near the tomb of Maecenas.——

OVID was born into an equestrian family at Sulmo, a town among the Peligni, on the 21st of March in the year Hirtius and Pansa were consuls. His father intended for him a career in law; after the usual educational course at Rome, he was sent to Athens, the center of learning, to complete his studies. Upon returning to Rome, he obeyed his father’s wish and began holding public offices in the forum, where he spoke with great applause. But this resulted from parental authority, not personal choice: from childhood, he showed a deep affection for poetry, and as soon as his father died, he abandoned the bar and devoted himself entirely to the pursuit of this enchanting art, to which he was irresistibly drawn. His works, all composed in either heroic or pentameter verse, are numerous and on various subjects. It will suffice to list them briefly.

\(178\) The *Heroides* are twenty-one Epistles, all but three purportedly written by legendary women of antiquity to their husbands or lovers, such as Penelope to Ulysses, Dido to Aeneas, Sappho to Phaon, etc. These writings are vigorous, passionate, and polished; they reveal great poetic feeling, though entwined with the sensual tendencies that pervade Ovid’s love poetry.

His elegies on love, especially the *Ars Amandi* or *Ars Amatoria*, though not all uniform in meter, share the same traits of passionate intensity and lush imagery as the epistles.

The *Fasti* was divided into twelve books, of which only the first six survive. Its purpose was to describe the Roman festivals for each month, detailing the rituals, ceremonies, and sacrifices of those occasions. It is unfortunate that this valuable work has not survived in its entirety, especially given such an engaging subject; but in what remains, we are provided with beautiful portrayals of ceremonial events in the Roman calendar, from the first of January to the end of June. As with all his works, Ovid’s verse is easy and harmonious.

His most famous work is the *Metamorphoses*, remarkable both for its subject and the masterful structure throughout. The poem is based on ancient myths and genealogies, which Ovid organizes into a seamlessly connected series of stories, each one emerging from the last; and he depicts the various transformations so convincingly that he lends plausibility even to the most fantastic tales. Yet, as Ovid himself tells us, this ingenious work had not received its final revisions when he was exiled.

In the *Ibis*, he imitates a poem by Callimachus of the same name. It is a fierce invective against someone who slandered him at Rome after his banishment. The whole piece is marked by intense feeling, anger, and unyielding resentment.

The *Tristia* were composed during his exile; though his usual spirit deserted him, his poetic skill remained. In these poems, as well as in many letters to various people, he laments his misfortune and pleads, in the strongest terms, for Augustus’s forgiveness.

Several other works by Ovid are now lost, and (179) among them a tragedy called *Medea*, which Quintilian praises highly: *Ovidii Medea videtur mihi ostendere quantum vir ille praestare potuerit, si ingenio suo temperare quam indulgere maluisset* 277. Lib. x. c. 1.

A distinguishing feature of Ovid’s writing is that, whatever topic he takes up, he thoroughly covers it—not by tedious length, but through a rapid flow of new and brilliant ideas, often using contrasts. He avoids obscenity in language, but is sensual in tone; he should be seen more as enticing natural passions than corrupting the mind. No other poet lets the style of his verse follow the subject as much as Ovid. In ordinary narrative, his style is nearly as simple as conversation; but when he is moved by strong feelings or inspired by lofty subjects, his expression rises with the topic and attains true sublimity.

No point in ancient history has given rise to more speculation than Ovid’s banishment; yet, despite many attempts to clarify the matter, the real cause remains shrouded in mystery. It is therefore appropriate, at this point, to review the various theories put forward and, if they prove wholly untenable, to try to resolve the question based on arguments more probable and supported by historical evidence.

The apparent reason Augustus gave for banishing Ovid was that he was corrupting Roman youth through licentious publications. However, it is clear from various passages in Ovid’s later works that there was another secret reason which could not be made public. He writes in his *Tristia*, Book ii, line 1—

*Perdiderent cum me duo crimina, carmen et error.* 278

Another passage in the same work suggests that this mysterious reason was something Ovid had witnessed, and, as he hints, it was due to his own ignorance or mistake.

Cur aliquid vidi? cur conscia lumina feci?  
Cur imprudenti cognita culpa mihi est?—Ibid.

* * * * * *

(180) Inscia quod crimen viderunt lumina, plector:  
Peccatumque oculos est habuisse meum. 279 De Trist. iii. 5.

It therefore seems sufficiently established that Ovid had seen something highly improper, involving Augustus. What precisely this was remains the question. Some, believing the incident to have been extremely serious, have speculated that it involved a criminal act between Augustus and his daughter Julia. Despite Augustus's careful attention to her education, Julia developed a notorious reputation for immorality—suspected of infidelity during her marriage to Agrippa, and openly licentious after marrying Tiberius. However, this theory is based solely on conjecture and is not only improbable but firmly undermined by a stronger argument. It is certain that Julia was already in exile at this time for her scandalous conduct. She was about the same age as Tiberius, who was now forty-seven, and they had ceased living together for many years. The exact year Augustus exiled her is unclear, but it almost certainly occurred soon after her separation from Tiberius. Both Tiberius and his mother Livia would have had clear motives, if needed, to push for her removal from Rome, as her widely known immorality brought shame to all who were connected to her, either by blood or marriage. Still, intervention from Tiberius or Livia was unnecessary, as Augustus himself reported her shameful behavior in a narrative read to the senate by the quaestor. He was so embarrassed by her conduct that he avoided company for a time and even considered executing her. Julia was banished to an island off the coast of Campania for five years; later, she was moved to the mainland and treated somewhat less harshly, but although the public repeatedly pleaded for her, Augustus never allowed her to return.

(181) Other writers have suggested that, rather than Julia the elder, Ovid may have seen Augustus with his granddaughter, also named Julia, who shared her mother's vices and was likewise banished by Augustus. We cannot determine when this lady was exiled, so this point cannot rebut the speculation. Yet Augustus showed equal concern for her upbringing as he did for her mother, though both proved unsuccessful; this, along with the gravity of the supposed crime and Augustus’s sensitivity about his daughter's disgrace, seems enough to clear him of such a terrible accusation. Moreover, is it plausible that he would banish her for the disgrace of her promiscuity if, supposing incest, she knew such an explosive secret—that he had been guiltier than any other man in Rome?

Some have ventured even further, dragging Maecenas, the minister, into a supposed even more abominable act. Fortunately for the reputation of this celebrated patron of the arts, as well as that of the emperor himself, the facts of chronology dispel this notion. Ovid’s exile began in the ninth year of the Christian era, while Maecenas died eight years before that. Depending on chronological reckoning, there may be a difference of three or four years, but even with the utmost allowance, there would be an interval of at least eleven years between Maecenas’s death and Ovid’s banishment. This clearly disproves the speculation.

Having, as it appears, refuted the prevailing views of various commentators on this topic, we will now propose a new theory, which seems more plausible than any previously suggested.

Suetonius tells us that, later in life, Augustus developed a depraved taste for the company of young virgins, procured for him from all quarters, not only with his wife Livia’s consent, but with her secret arrangements. It is likely, then, that Ovid discovered Augustus in the company of one of these girls. Having long striven to maintain a façade of decency, Augustus would have been deeply unsettled by Ovid’s untimely arrival. There is no doubt Ovid had no knowledge that Augustus was present; but Augustus’s awareness of this, paired with Ovid’s temperament, may have aroused suspicions as to the poet’s motives. Apart from the immorality of the emperor's own actions, the incident, in retrospect, might have seemed more farcical than outrageous—certainly more likely to spark shame than anger. Ovid’s own words suggest, however, that his purpose in being there was not entirely blameless, though what that purpose was remains unknown:

Non equidem totam possum defendere culpam:  
Sed partem nostri criminis error habet.  
De Trist. Lib. iii. Eleg. 5.

I know I cannot wholly be defended,  
Yet plead ‘twas chance, no ill was then intended.—Catlin.

Ovid was then past fifty, and although a younger man would not have been seen as a romantic rival, Augustus—now sixty-nine—may have perceived him as a threat. The combination of jealousy and being denied satisfaction in the encounter stoked the emperor’s resentment, and he decided to banish to a distant land the man he saw as both a rival and someone he could no longer bear to see.

Once Augustus resolved to banish Ovid, it was easy for him to align a pretense with the real, secret cause of this decision.

The order of Ovid's works in his collected writings cannot determine their publication dates. However, logic suggests that the *Ars Amatoria* was written during the poet’s youth, a view supported by this line from Book II of the *Fasti*:

Certe ego vos habui faciles in amore ministros;  
Cum lusit numeris prima juventa suis. 280

That many years must have passed since its original publication is clear from the following lines in the second book of the Tristia:

Nos quoque jam pridem scripto peccavimus uno.  
Supplicium patitur non nova culpa novum.  
Carminaque edideram, cum te delicta notantem  
Praeterii toties jure quietus eques.  
(183) Ergo, quae juveni mihi non nocitura putavi  
Scripta parum prudens, nunc nocuere seni? 281

With what justification, then, it may be asked, could Augustus now punish a fault which, in his official role as censor, he had overlooked so long and so often? The answer is obvious: in a work as popular as we can be sure the Ars Amandi was among Roman youth, it must have gone through several editions over the span of years. One of these editions, coinciding with the unfortunate discovery, gave the emperor a plausible excuse to carry out his plan. The harshness shown in this instance, when the poet was suddenly driven into exile without even the company of his wife, who had been his companion for many years, was so inconsistent with Augustus's usual moderation that it seems attributable only to personal resentment. This is especially so since this arbitrary punishment of the author served no real public purpose, while the controversial work itself remained, still able—as far as it ever truly did—to influence society’s morals.

If Augustus could no longer bear any personal contact with Ovid, or even his presence in Italy, little harm would have come from sending into honorable exile—with every comfort possible—a man of respectable standing, charged with no actual crime, and whose genius, despite its indiscretions, brought eternal honor to his country. It might be argued that, given the circumstances, Augustus showed more restraint than one might expect from an absolute ruler by sparing Ovid’s life. It is easy to imagine that under any of the four following emperors, Ovid would have paid for the incident with his blood.

Augustus, on a recent occasion, had shown himself just as severe, for he had Cassius, a poet from Parma, put to death by the hand of Varus for writing satirical verses against him. That recent example, together with the emperor’s right to pardon, gave Augustus enough leverage over the poet to ensure secrecy regarding the infamous event. If Ovid revealed (184) it to the world, Augustus would denounce it as a false and slanderous libel and punish the author accordingly. Ovid, in turn, knew that should he dare to break this significant, if unspoken, command, imperial revenge would reach him even on the shores of the Euxine. However, from a passage in the Ibis—referring to none other than Augustus—it appears that Ovid was not sent into exile without financial support:

Di melius! quorum longe mihi maximus ille,  
Qui nostras inopes noluit esse vias.  
Huic igitur meritas grates, ubicumque licebit,  
Pro tam mansueto pectore semper agam.

The gods defend! of whom he’s far the chief,  
Who lets me not, though banished, want relief.  
For this his favour therefore whilst I live,  
Where’er I am, deserved thanks I’ll give.

The exact sum the emperor gave to support an exile he intended to be lifelong is impossible to determine; but he had previously been generous to Ovid, as he was to other poets.

If we may venture a guess about the location of the incident that led to Ovid's banishment, we might place it somewhere in the emperor’s gardens. His residence, called the Palatium—the palace—because it was built on the Palatine hill and inhabited by the sovereign, was only a modest mansion that had once belonged to Hortensius, the orator. Adjacent to this, Augustus had built the temple of Apollo, which he provided with a public library, set aside for poets to share and recite their compositions. Ovid was particularly close with Hyginus, one of Augustus’s freedmen, who served as librarian of the temple. Ovid may have been in the library when, seeing a young woman hiding herself in the gardens, he was curious enough to follow her.

Ovid’s place of exile was Tomi,282 now said to be Baba, a town in Bulgaria near the mouth of the Ister, where there is still a lake called by locals Ouvidouve Jesero—the lake of Ovid. In this remote spot and the region of the Euxine Pontus, he spent the rest of his life—a sad period of seven years. Despite Ovid's erotic writings, there is no evidence that his behavior was actually licentious. He was married three times: his first wife, of humble origins whom he married very young, he divorced; the second he left because of her lack of modesty; and his third seems to have survived him. He had many respectable friends and appears to have been well loved by them.

TIBULLUS was from an equestrian family and is said—though incorrectly, as will later be shown—to have been born the same day as Ovid. His admirable qualities earned him the friendship of Messala Corvinus, whom he accompanied on a military campaign to the island of Corcyra. However, an illness he suffered there, along with his natural dislike of warfare, led him to return to Rome, where he seems to have devoted himself to a life of leisure and pleasure, spending much of his time composing elegies.

Elegiac poetry had been cultivated by several Greek poets, most notably Callimachus, Mimnermus, and Philetas; but, as far as we know, it had not been written by Romans in their own language until this period. It consisted of alternating heroic and pentameter lines and was not, as in modern times, typically devoted to mourning the dead, but focused chiefly on love or friendship, though it could address nearly any matter. However, because of the shortness of the pentameter line, it is ill suited to grand subjects, which require greater fullness of language and resonance. To this genre, Tibullus dedicated himself, cultivating a simplicity, tenderness, and easy grace that mark the special charm of the elegiac muse.

In depicting rural scenes, peaceful country life, the pleasures of home, and the joys of mutual love, few poets surpass Tibullus. His vivid imagination gathers the loveliest flowers of nature and arranges them in harmonious, delicate verse. With a skill unique to himself, whatever topic he takes, he leads his readers gently through meandering paths of enjoyment, the nature of which they could not have guessed at the start of the poem. He often seems to have written with little forethought or plan. Some of his elegies seem to lack a proper middle or end, yet the shifts are so smooth and graceful that, even as we journey through dreamlike realms of fancy of every kind, we are scarcely aware of any flaw in their linkage.

It is regrettable, though, that in some works, Tibullus shows the looseness of morals (186) characteristic—even in this polished era—of too many. His elegies addressed to Messala contain a beautiful development of ideals based on friendship and respect, where it is difficult to decide whether the patron's virtues or the poet's genius are more remarkable.

Valerius Messala Corvinus, whom he celebrates, came from a very ancient family. During the civil wars that followed Julius Caesar’s death, he joined the republican party and captured Octavius’s camp at Philippi. However, he was later reconciled with his opponent and lived to an old age in favor and esteem with Augustus. He was distinguished not only for his military talents, but also for his eloquence, integrity, and patriotism.

From the following passage in the writings of Tibullus, commentators have guessed that he was deprived of his lands by the same proscription that had affected those of Virgil:

Cui fuerant flavi ditantes ordine sulci  
Horrea, faecundas ad deficientia messes,  
Cuique pecus denso pascebant agmine colles,  
Et domino satis, et nimium furique lupoque:  
Nunc desiderium superest: nam cura novatur,  
Cum memor anteactos semper dolor admovet annos.  
Lib. iv. El. 1.

But this does not seem very likely, as Horace, several years after that time, refers to him as wealthy.

Dii tibi divitias dederant, artemque fruendi.  
Epist. Lib. i. 4.  
To thee the gods a fair estate

In bounty gave, with heart to know  
How to enjoy what they bestow.—Francis.

We do not know the exact age of Tibullus at his death; but in an elegy written by Ovid on that occasion, he is described as a young man. If we believe the biographers who say that he was born on the same day as Ovid, we would indeed have to place his death at an early date. Ovid could not have written the elegy after his own forty-third year, and how much earlier is uncertain. In the tenth elegy of the fourth book, *De Tristibus*, he remarks that the fates allowed little time for him to cultivate his friendship with Tibullus.

Virgilium vidi tantum: nec avara Tibullo  
Tempus amicitiae fata dedere meae.  
Successor fuit hic tibi, Galle; Propertius illi:  
Quartus ab his serie temporis ipse fui.  
Utque ego majores, sic me coluere minores.

(187) Virgil I only saw, and envious fate  
Did soon my friend Tibullus hence translate.  
He followed Gallus, and Propertius him,  
And I myself was fourth in course of time.—Catlin.

As both Ovid and Tibullus lived in Rome, were both of the equestrian order, and had similar dispositions, it is reasonable to think that their acquaintance began early. If, still, it was short-lived, there is nothing unlikely in believing that Tibullus died some years before reaching thirty. However, it is clear that biographers have made a mistake regarding the birth of this poet; for in the earlier mentioned *Tristia* passage, Ovid refers to Tibullus as a writer who, though his contemporary, was much older than himself. From this, we may place the death of Tibullus between his fortieth and fiftieth year, and probably closer to the latter; otherwise, Horace would hardly have referred to him as he does in one of his epistles.

Albi, nostrorum sermonum candide judex,  
Quid nunc te dicam facere in regione Pedana?  
Scribere quod Cassi Parmensis opuscula vincat;  
An tacitum silvas inter reptare salubres,

Curantem quicquid dignum sapiente bonoque est?—Epist. i. 4.

Albius, in whom my satires find  
A critic fair, discerning, and kind,  
Do you, while at your country home,  
Compose some verses as you roam,  
Which, gathered into volumes grand,  
Might even Cassius' prize withstand;  
Or wander through the silent wood,  
Reflecting on what makes a person good.—Francis.

This supposition is in no way inconsistent with Ovid's authority, where he mentions him as a young man; for the Romans considered youth to last as late as the fiftieth year.

PROPERTIUS was born at Mevania, a town in Umbria, situated at the meeting of the Tina and Clitumnus rivers. This place was renowned for its herds of white cattle, raised there for sacrifices, believed to acquire their color from the waters of the Clitumnus.

Hinc albi, Clitumne, greges, et maxima taurus  
Victima, saepe tuo perfusi flumine sacro,  
Romanos ad templa Deum duxere triumphos.—Georg. ii.

And where your sacred streams, Clitumnus! flow,  
White herds, and stately bulls that have often led  
Triumphant Rome, and on her altars bled.—Sotheby.

\(188\) Some say his father was a Roman knight, and further claim that he was one of those who, when L. Antony was starved out of Perusia, were, by order of Octavius, led to the altar of Julius Caesar and killed. Little else is certain, except that Propertius lost his father young, and, having lost much of his inheritance, went to Rome. There, his talent soon gained public attention, and he secured the patronage of Maecenas. Owing to his frequent use of historical and mythological subjects in his poetry, he was known as “the learned.”

Of all the Latin elegiac poets, Propertius stands out for the purity of his thought and expression. He often draws his imagery from reading rather than imagination, offering less description and more sentiment. He is not especially notable for passionate intensity, and his tenderness rarely displays deep sensitivity; yet his poetry remains lively, and like Horace, he often blends merriment with moral reflection. His learning enriches and illustrates his subject matter, and his delicacy reveals a taste refined through reflection. His verse is usually elegant, though not always perfectly harmonious.

Tibullus and Propertius both wrote four books of Elegies, and debate continues over which of them most excels in this form. Quintilian has given his approval to Tibullus, who, if poetic artistry alone is considered, seems to deserve the preference.

GALLUS was a Roman knight distinguished for both his poetry and military achievements. Only six elegies survive, written in the voice of an older man about old age—though there is reason to think they were composed earlier in his life. Except for the fifth elegy, which is marked by indecency, the others, especially the first, are truly beautiful and can stand beside the best works of this genre. For a time Gallus was highly favored by Augustus, who appointed him governor of Egypt. Reportedly, he oppressed the province through extortion and even conspired against his benefactor; as a result, he was banished. Unable to endure his change in fortune, he fell into despair and took his own life. This is the Gallus for whom Virgil wrote his tenth eclogue.

These are the celebrated works of the Augustan age which have fortunately survived, to delight and inspire humanity, and will endure for generations to come. Many (189) more, of varied merit from various authors, once existed but have left little or no trace and have been lost amid the indiscriminate destruction of time, accidents, and invasions. Among the principal lost authors are Varius and Valgius; Varius, besides a panegyric on Augustus, wrote tragedies. According to Quintilian, his Thyestes was equal to the finest works of the Greek tragic poets.

The large number of outstanding writers, especially poets, from this age has drawn widespread admiration. This flourishing of talent is often ascribed to a fortunate coincidence that defies explanation; but we will attempt to identify the causes that seem to have produced this effect. If that explanation proves satisfactory, it might support the view that, under similar circumstances—should they ever be repeated—a comparable era of glory could recur in other times and places.

The Romans, whether because of their climate or generally temperate way of life, were gifted with lively imaginations and, as noted earlier, a spirit of enterprise. After the end of the Punic War and the conquest of Greece, the energy that had been spent on military exploits was redirected into literature. With the later civil tumults now over, ambition found new purpose in the pursuit of literary fame, won now by intellectual achievements alone. The magnificent works of Greece inspired them to imitation. Imitation, when shared by many, produced competition—and that competition nurtured a powerful desire for fame, the driving force behind excellence in every human endeavor. This spirit of rivalry was further encouraged by a Roman fashion: poets publicly reciting their works, often to an excessive degree. Such was the craze for poetry in Rome that Horace describes it as follows:

Mutavit mentem populus levis, et calet uno  
Scribendi studio: pueri patresque severi  
Fronde comas vincti coenant, et carmina dictant.—Epist. ii. 1.

* * * * * *

Now people turn their attention to new goals;  
A passion for writing fills every heart;  
Our youth and our senators alike are crowned with laurels,  
And endless verses, like our feasts, make their rounds.

(190) Scribimus indocti doctique poemata passim.—Hor. Epist. ii. 1.

But now every hopeless blockhead dares to write—  
Verse is the occupation of every living soul.—Francis.

The previously mentioned thirst for fame was a powerful motivation, as both Virgil and Horace openly admit. Virgil, in the third book of his Georgics, declares his intention to make himself renowned, if he can.

———— tentanda via est qua me quoque possim  
Tollere humo, victorque virum volitare per ora.

I too will attempt a path, by which I as well may  
Rise from the earth, and, triumphant, flutter through men’s lips in praise.—Sotheby.

And Horace, at the end of his first Ode, expresses himself in a way that shows a similar ambition.

Quad si me lyricis vatibus inseres,  
Sublimi feriam sidera vertice.

But if you rank me with the choir  
Who with skill tuned the Grecian lyre;  
Swift to the loftiest heights of fame  
Your poet’s name shall surely claim.—Francis.

Even Sallust, the historian, in his introduction to the Catiline Conspiracy, openly hints at the same sort of ambition: Quo mihi rectius videtur ingenii quam virium opibus gloriam quaerere; et quoniam vita ipsa, qua fruimur, brevis est, memoriam nostri quam maxume longam efficere.^283

Another very important factor in creating poetry that could endure throughout all ages was the great care poets of this era took in both composing and refining their works. Virgil, when working on the Georgics, would typically write in the morning and spend much of the rest of the day revising and improving his lines. He compared himself to a bear that licks her cub into shape. If this was his common method during the Georgics, we can reasonably believe he did the same with the Aeneid. Still, after all this hard work, he planned to spend three years more revising it further. Horace went so far in recommending thorough revision that he figuratively stated nine years as a sufficient amount of time for such efforts. Whatever the specific duration, no advice does he urge more frequently or forcefully than close attention to this crucial process.

(191) Saepe stylum vertas, iterum quae digna legi sint  
Scripturus.—Sat. i. x. Would you win a reader’s true esteem?  
With frequent care, revise your pages clean.—Francis.

————

Vos, O  
Pompilius blood, criticize the poem, which  
Many days and many revisions have not restrained, and  
Which has not been perfected and polished even after ten corrections.  
De. Art. Poet.

Sons of Pompilius, receive with disdain,  
Nor let the bold poem hope to survive,  
When time and thorough revision don’t refine  
The finished work, and polish every line.—Francis.

To the causes previously listed as contributors to the great superiority of the Augustan age in literature, one more must be added, perhaps the most essential: the generous and unmatched encouragement given to distinguished talent by the emperor and his minister. This support was of tremendous importance: it kindled the flame of genius and invigorated every effort. The poets who basked in the radiance of imperial favor and the energetic patronage of Maecenas experienced a poetic enthusiasm that came close to true inspiration.

Now that we have finished our discussion of the factors behind the fame of the Augustan age, we will conclude by summarizing briefly the causes of this extraordinary phenomenon.

The Romans drew their models from Greek poetry, which represented the highest achievements of human genius; their incentives to emulate were the strongest imaginable. Driven by passion and dedication to composing, and by tireless patience in refining their works, they reached a glory in literature that no later age has ever surpassed.

## TIBERIUS NERO CAESAR.

### (192)

I. The patrician family of the Claudii (for there was a plebeian branch of the same name, which was in no way less in power or dignity) originally came from Regilli, a town of the Sabines. They moved from there to Rome soon after the city was founded, bringing a large group of dependants, either under Titus Tatius, who reigned jointly with Romulus; or, as more reliable sources say, under Atta Claudius, the family’s patriarch, who was admitted into the patrician order by the senate six years after the expulsion of the Tarquins. They were also granted by the state land beyond the Anio for their followers, and a burial ground near the capitol for themselves 284. Later, in the course of time, the family achieved twenty-eight consulships, five dictatorships, seven censorships, seven triumphs, and two ovations. Their descendants used a variety of praenomina and cognomina 285, but by common agreement rejected the praenomen Lucius, after one member of each of two branches was convicted of robbery and murder, respectively. Among other cognomina, they adopted Nero, which in the Sabine language means strong and courageous.

II. Historical records show that many Claudii have provided outstanding service to the state, as well as committed acts of misconduct. To mention only the most notable: Appius Caecus persuaded the senate not to form an alliance with Pyrrhus, considering it harmful to the Republic 286. Claudius Candex was the first to cross the straits of Sicily with a fleet, expelling the Carthaginians from the island 287. Claudius Nero defeated Hasdrubal and his large army upon their arrival in Italy from Spain, before they could unite with Hannibal 288. On the other hand, Claudius Appius Regillanus, one of the Decemvirs, made a violent attempt to have a free maiden, with whom he was infatuated, declared a slave; this led to the people seceding from the senate for a second time 289. Claudius Drusus set up a statue of himself wearing a crown at Appii Forum 290, and tried, through his followers, to seize control of Italy. Claudius Pulcher, when the sacred chickens used for augury would not eat while at sea near Sicily 291, contemptuously threw them overboard, saying as a joke that if they would not eat, at least they could drink; he then engaged the enemy and was defeated. After his defeat, when ordered by the senate to name a dictator, in a mocking spirit over the disaster, he named Glycias, his own servant.

The women of this family likewise showed contrasting characters. Both famous Claudias were from this line: one, who, when the ship carrying sacred items for the Idaean Mother of the Gods 292 got stuck on a sandbank in the Tiber, freed it by shouting, “Follow me, if I am chaste,” and another, who, contrary to what was usual for women, was put on trial by the people for treason; for when her litter was stopped by a dense crowd, she exclaimed, “I wish my brother Pulcher were alive now to lose another fleet, so Rome might be less crowded.” It is also well known that all the Claudii, except for Publius Claudius—who arranged to be adopted into a plebeian family, and by someone younger than himself, so he could work to exile Cicero 293—were always fierce supporters of the patrician cause, fiercely defending the honor and power of that order; so stubborn and extreme was their opposition to the plebeians, that none of them, even when on trial for his life before the people, would adopt mourning attire or plead with the people for mercy, as was customary; and some even went so far as to lay hands on the tribunes of the people during disputes. A Vestal Virgin from the family, when her brother insisted on the right to a triumph against the people's will, joined him in his chariot and accompanied him to the Capitol, to prevent the tribunes from intervening. 294

III. From this family Tiberius Caesar was descended—actually, from both his father’s and mother’s side: through the father from Tiberius Nero, and through the mother from Appius Pulcher, both sons of Appius Caecus. He also belonged to the Livian family, by his mother’s grandfather’s adoption into it; while this was a plebeian family, it was distinguished by eight consulships, two censorships, three triumphs, one dictatorship, and the mastership of the horse; and famous for notable men, especially Salinator and the Drusi. Salinator, as censor 295, punished all the tribes for their fickleness in making him consul twice and censor, after having fined him heavily as consul. Drusus, by killing Drausus, the opposing leader, in single combat, earned a new surname for himself and his descendants. He is also said to have recovered, as pro-praetor in Gaul, the gold that had once been given to the Senones at the siege of the Capitol, which, it is claimed, was not taken from them by Camillus. His great-great-grandson, known as “Patron of the Senate” for his actions against the Gracchi, left a son who, while planning a similar rebellion, was treacherously killed by the opposition. 296

IV. The father of Tiberius Caesar, while serving as quaestor under Caius Caesar and commander of his fleet in the Alexandrian War, made major contributions to its victory. He was therefore made a high priest in place of Publius Scipio 297; and sent to establish colonies in Gaul, including Narbonne and Arles 298. After Caesar's assassination, while the other senators, fearing unrest, wanted to let the matter rest, he proposed a motion to reward those who had killed the tyrant. After serving as praetor 299, and as a disturbance broke out among the triumvirs at the end of his term, he held on to his office’s insignia longer than legally allowed. He supported Lucius Antonius, the consul and brother of the triumvir, at Perusia 300. While most others surrendered, he held out and escaped first to Praeneste, then to Naples; after a failed attempt to encourage slaves to seek their freedom, he fled to Sicily. Annoyed that Sextus Pompey didn’t grant immediate access or the use of the fasces, he went to Achaia to join Mark Antony; after a quick reconciliation among the factions, he returned to Rome and, at Augustus’s request, handed over his wife Livia Drusilla, though she was pregnant and had already borne him a son. He died not long after, leaving two sons: Tiberius and Drusus Nero.

V. Some believe that Tiberius was born at Fundi, but this is based only on a slight connection: his maternal great-grandmother came from Fundi, and a statue of Good Fortune was set up in the town by the senate’s decree. According to most sources of the highest authority, he was actually born at Rome, in the Palatine district, on the 16th day before the calends of December [16th Nov.], when Marcus Aemilius Lepidus was consul for the second time with Lucius Munatius Plancus 301, after the battle of Philippi; this is also how it is recorded in the calendar and public documents. Others say he was born the year before, in the consulship of Hirtius and Pansa, and yet others the year after, under Servilius Isauricus and Antony.

VI. His infancy and childhood were spent amidst danger and turmoil. He followed his parents everywhere during their escape and twice at Naples nearly gave them away by crying while they were secretly heading for a ship as enemies entered the town; once, he was snatched from his nurse's arms and, another time, from his mother's by companions looking to relieve the women in a desperate situation. He traveled through Sicily and Achaia, and was at one point entrusted to the Lacedaemonians, who were under the Claudian family's protection. While leaving there, during a nighttime journey, his life was endangered by a fire that suddenly broke out and surrounded the whole party, burning part of Livia’s clothing and hair. The gifts given to him by Pompeia, sister of Sextus Pompey, in Sicily—specifically, a cloak with a clasp and gold bullae—still exist and are displayed at Baiae. Upon the family’s return to Rome, he was adopted in the will of Marcus Gallius, a senator, and inherited his estate. He soon gave up using the name Gallius, though, because Gallius had been opposed to Augustus. At only nine years old, he delivered a funeral speech for his father in the Forum; later, as he neared adulthood, he rode on the left-hand horse at Augustus's triumph for Actium, while Marcellus, Octavia's son, rode the right. He also presided over the games held for that victory, and in the Trojan games that accompanied the Circus events, he led a troop of the older boys.

VII. After assuming the toga of manhood, he spent the rest of his youth and adult life, until he became ruler, as follows: he put on gladiatorial shows for the people, one in memory of his father and another for his grandfather Drusus, at different times and venues—the first in the forum, the second in the amphitheater; some honorably retired gladiators were persuaded to fight again by a reward of a hundred thousand sesterces. He also organized public games, though he did not attend personally. All this was done with great lavishness, at the expense of his mother and father-in-law. He married Agrippina, daughter of Marcus Agrippa and granddaughter of Caecilius Atticus, a Roman knight—the same person so often addressed by Cicero’s letters. After fathering a son, Drusus, with Agrippina, he was forced to part from her 302, though he loved her, and she was pregnant again, in order to marry Augustus’s daughter Julia. But he did this very reluctantly; not only did he feel deep affection for Agrippina, but he also disliked Julia, who had made improper advances toward him while married to her first husband and was widely considered to have questionable morals. The separation from Agrippina deeply pained him, and when he met her later, he looked after her so affectionately that measures were taken to keep her away from his sight. At first he lived quietly and contentedly with Julia, but before long their relationship broke down so severely that, after the death in infancy of their son—born at Aquileia as the symbol of their union 303—he never again shared a bed with her. He lost his brother Drusus in Germany and personally brought his body to Rome, walking the whole way ahead of the procession.

VIII. When he began his career in public affairs, he defended the cases of King Archelaus, the Trallians, and the Thessalians before Augustus, who served as judge. He petitioned the senate for the Laodiceans, Thyatireans, and Chians, who had suffered badly from an earthquake and requested relief from Rome. He prosecuted Fannius Caepio, involved in a conspiracy with Varro Murena against Augustus, and secured a conviction. Meanwhile, he oversaw two major administrative departments: supplying the city with grain (which was in short supply) and clearing out the houses of correction 304 throughout Italy, whose managers stood accused of detaining not just travelers but also those hiding from military service.

IX. His first campaign as military tribune was in the Cantabrian war 305. He later led an army to the East 306, where he restored the kingdom of Armenia to Tigranes and, seated on a tribunal, put the crown on his head. He also recovered from the Parthians the standards taken from Crassus. Afterward, he governed Gallia Comata for nearly a year, then troubled by barbarian incursions and internal disputes. He later commanded in wars against the Rhaetians, Vindelicians, Pannonians, and Germans. In the Rhaetian and Vindelician wars, he subdued Alpine nations; in the Pannonian wars, the Bruci and (199) Dalmatians. In the German campaign, he relocated forty thousand surrendered enemy soldiers into Gaul, giving them lands near the Rhine. For these achievements, he was granted an ovation upon entering Rome, reportedly the first to receive this honor in a chariot. He quickly rose through the principal state offices—serving as quaestor 307, praetor 308, and consul 309 almost in succession. After a time, he became consul a second time and held tribunitian authority for five years.

X. Surrounded by all this prosperity, in the prime of life and in excellent health, he suddenly resolved to withdraw farther from Rome 310. It is uncertain whether this was because of his growing disgust with his wife—whom he neither dared accuse nor divorce, and whose company became more intolerable each day—or because he wished to avoid becoming too familiar and losing influence through his constant city presence, or perhaps he hoped to increase his authority by his absence if the state were to need his service. Some believe that, since Augustus’s sons were now grown, he voluntarily gave up his long-held second place in the government, as Agrippa had before him; who, when M. Marcellus was advanced to public office, retired to Mitylene so as not to seem to stand in his way or diminish him by his presence. Tiberius later gave the same reason for his retirement. At this time, however, his stated reason was that he was tired of honors and wanted relief from the burdens of office; he therefore requested leave to withdraw. Not even the urgent pleas of his mother nor the complaint of his father-in-law, made publicly in the senate that he was being deserted, could persuade him otherwise. When they persisted in trying to detain him, he refused sustenance for four days. At last, having secured permission, he left his wife and son in Rome and went (200) to Ostia 311, without exchanging a word with his attendants and embracing only a very few at parting.

XI. From Ostia, traveling along the coast of Campania, he paused upon hearing that Augustus was ill, but since this gave rise to rumors that he was lingering with some ulterior motive, he sailed on into a headwind and arrived at Rhodes. The island had impressed him with its pleasantness and healthy climate when he had landed there returning from Armenia. In Rhodes, he lived a completely private life in a modest house and a villa slightly larger near town. He sometimes walked about the Gymnasia 312 without a lictor or attendant, greeting the Greeks with almost as much friendliness as if he were their equal. One morning, when discussing his daily plans, he happened to say he’d visit all the sick in town. This was misunderstood by his companions, so the sick were gathered in a public portico and sorted by their various illnesses. Embarrassed by this unexpected event, he hesitated but ultimately went around to everyone, apologizing even to the lowest among them, including complete strangers. One instance is recorded where he exercised his tribunitian authority. While regularly attending the lectures of professors of liberal arts, a quarrel arose among the argumentative (201) sophists. When he tried to mediate, someone insulted him as a meddler and biased. He left quietly, but soon returned with his officers, summoned the accuser before him by public crier, and ordered him taken to prison. Afterwards, he learned that his wife Julia had been condemned for her immoral conduct and adultery, and that a bill of divorce had been sent to her in his name, by Augustus’s authority. Though he was secretly delighted at the news, he felt obliged, for propriety’s sake, to intercede for her in letters to Augustus, and allowed her to keep the gifts he had given her, despite her lack of merit. When his tribunitian authority expired 313, he finally declared that his only aim in retiring had been to avoid suspicion of rivalry with Caius and Lucius; now that they were of age and secure in their status, he petitioned to visit his friends, whom he greatly wished to see. But his request was denied, and he was told to dismiss all concern for his friends.

XII. He therefore remained in Rhodes very unwillingly, obtaining only with difficulty—through his mother—the title of Augustus’s lieutenant, to conceal his disgrace. He lived not only as a private citizen but also as one under suspicion and fear, withdrawing into the interior and avoiding the many visitors who traveled through Rhodes on their way to military or provincial posts. New anxieties also arose. Visiting Samos to see his step-son Caius, governor of the East, he found Caius prejudiced against him due to the schemes of Marcus Lollius, Caius’s advisor. Tiberius also fell under suspicion of sending with certain centurions he had promoted—when they returned to camp after leave—secret messages to some individuals, seemingly to (202) incite revolt. When Augustus warned him of these suspicions, he repeatedly asked that someone from any of the three Orders be assigned to spy on everything he did or said.

XIII. He also gave up his former military exercises and Roman dress, instead adopting the Pallium and Crepida 314. For almost two years he lived this way, becoming increasingly despised and hated; so much so that the people of Nismes tore down all his images and statues. At a dinner, one guest told Caius, “I’ll sail to Rhodes immediately, if you wish, and bring you the head of the exile;” for so he was now called. Alarmed by not just fear but real danger, he renewed his pleas to return, and with his mother’s urgent support, finally gained approval—helped in part by circumstance: Augustus had decided not to act without his eldest son’s consent, and at the time Caius was annoyed with Marcus Lollius and so willing to favor his father-in-law. Caius thus agreed, and Tiberius was recalled, on the condition that he take no part in public affairs.

XIV. He returned to Rome after nearly eight years 315, full of great hope for the future, which he had harbored since youth because of various signs and predictions. For example, while Livia was pregnant with him, she tried various kinds of divination to learn if her child would be a son, including taking an egg from a brooding hen and keeping it warm in turn with her and her maid’s hands until a fine cock-chicken with a big comb hatched. The astrologer Scribonius predicted great things for him as a child: “He will eventually be king, but without the usual royal insignia”—the rule of the Caesars then being unheard of. When (203) he was on his first military campaign, leading his army through Macedonia into Syria, the altars once dedicated by the victorious legions at Philippi suddenly burst into spontaneous flames. Later, while heading to Illyricum, he visited the oracle of Geryon near Padua; having drawn a lot instructing him to toss golden dice into the fountain of Aponus 316 for an answer, he did so, and the highest numbers came up. Those dice can still be seen at the bottom of the fountain. Just before leaving Rhodes, an eagle—never before seen on the island—perched atop his house. And the day before he learned of his permission to return, as he was changing his clothes, his tunic seemed to burst into flames. He also received a notable confirmation of the abilities of Thrasyllus, his astrologer, whom he had included in his household for his skill in philosophy. Upon seeing the ship bringing the news, Thrasyllus said good news was coming. Previously, with things going badly and his forecasts having failed, Tiberius had actually planned, as they walked together, to throw him into the sea as a fraud and someone to whom he’d foolishly entrusted secrets.

XV. Upon his return to Rome, having introduced his son Drusus to public life in the forum, he immediately moved from Pompey’s house in the Carinae to the gardens of Maecenas on the Esquiline 317, devoting himself fully to a life of ease and performing only ordinary social duties, without holding any office. But within three years, both Caius and Lucius died, and Augustus adopted him along with their brother Agrippa; but first he was required to adopt Germanicus, his brother’s son. After being adopted, he never again acted as head of a (204) family or exercised any rights he had lost through adoption. He made no gifts, freed no slaves, and accepted no inheritances or legacies except as possessions under his father’s authority. From that day, nothing was left undone to advance his greatness, and especially so after Agrippa was exiled, making it clear the hope of succession rested solely with him.

XVI. He was again granted the tribunitian authority for five years 318, and given command to settle the affairs of Germany. Parthian ambassadors, after seeing Augustus, were told to present themselves to him as well. But news then reached him of an uprising in Illyricum 319, and he went to handle this new war, which proved the most severe foreign conflict since the Carthaginian wars. For three years, commanding fifteen legions plus equal auxiliary forces, he faced great hardship and severe food shortages. Although recalled several times, he persisted, fearing that such a strong and nearby enemy might attack the retreating army. His decision led to complete success: he finally subdued all of Illyricum, which lies between Italy; Noricum; Thrace; Macedonia; the Danube; and the Adriatic.

XVII. His glory from these achievements was heightened by their timing. For almost at the same time 320, Quintilius Varus was killed with three legions in Germany; and it was widely believed the victorious Germans would have joined the Pannonians if not for the earlier end of the Illyrian war. He was therefore awarded a triumph and many other honors. Some proposed that he receive the title “Pannonicus,” others “Invincible,” and others “O Pius,” but Augustus promised for him that he would be content with whatever title he would gain upon Augustus’s death. He postponed his triumph, since (205) the state was then in deep mourning for the disaster of Varus and his army. Yet, entering the city in a triumphal robe and wearing a laurel crown, he took his place on a tribunal in the Septa, sitting with Augustus between the two consuls, while the senate stood. After saluting the people, he was escorted in procession to the temples.

XVIII. The next year he went back to Germany. Discovering that Varus’s defeat was due to the commander’s rashness and negligence, he decided to follow the advice of a council of war in everything, whereas previously he relied solely on his own judgment. He proceeded with greater caution. When crossing the Rhine, he limited the convoy strictly and stationed himself at the riverbank, inspecting every wagon before it crossed to ensure they carried only what was allowed or necessary. Beyond the Rhine, his life was so austere that he dined sitting on the bare ground 321, often slept without a tent, and issued regular and emergency orders in writing, instructing that if any doubt arose about them, he was to be consulted—even in the middle of the night.

XIX. He enforced strict discipline among the troops, reviving many old rules for punishing and demoting offenders, even disgracing a legion commander for sending a few soldiers with a freedman across the river to hunt. Though he wanted to leave as little as possible to chance, he always engaged the enemy more confidently when, in his night watches, his lamp went out by itself, trusting—as he said—in an omen that had never failed him or his ancestors (206) in command. Yet, even in victory, he nearly died at the hands of a Bructerian, who, mingling with his attendants and discovered by his nervousness, was tortured and confessed his intent to assassinate him.

XX. Two years later, he returned from Germany to Rome and celebrated his long-deferred triumph, accompanied by his lieutenants for whom he secured triumphal honors 322. Before ascending the Capitol, he dismounted from his chariot and knelt before his father who was there to view the ceremony. Bato, chief of the Pannonians, he sent to Ravenna with lavish gifts, in thanks for letting him and his army escape from a position in which he was surrounded and at Bato’s mercy. He then gave a public feast at a thousand tables, plus thirty sesterces per person, and dedicated the temple of Concord 323, and that of Castor and Pollux, built with war spoils in his and his brother’s names.

XXI. Not long after, a law was passed by the consuls 324 making him a colleague with Augustus in governing the provinces and conducting the census. When that was completed, he set out for Illyricum 325. But being recalled hurriedly, he found Augustus still alive but beyond hope of recovery, and spent a whole private day with him. There is a popular story that, after Tiberius left this private meeting, those nearby overheard Augustus say: “Ah! unhappy Roman people, to be handed over to such a slow devourer!” Some also claim Augustus so openly condemned his sour temper that sometimes, when Tiberius entered, he would stop any lighthearted conversation; and that only Livia’s pleas or his wish that his own memory would shine in comparison led him to adopt Tiberius. But I believe that a ruler as careful as Augustus acted with full deliberation in such a major matter; and that, having weighed Tiberius’s vices and virtues, he judged his virtues to outweigh the faults. This is further supported by Augustus’s public swear, when he said he adopted Tiberius “for the public good.” Several letters also praise him as a first-rate general and the only safeguard of Rome. Here are a few examples: “Farewell, my dear Tiberius, and may you have success as you campaign for me and the Muses 326. Farewell, my dearest and (as I hope to prosper) most valiant man and skilled general.” Again: “Your summer quarters? In truth, my dear Tiberius, under such difficulties and with troops so unwilling, no one could have acted more wisely. All those with you agree this verse fits you:”

Unus homo nobis vigilando restituit rem. 327  
One man by vigilance restored the state.

“Whenever,” he writes, “any problem needing special care arises, or my mood is dark, I swear by Hercules, I long for my dear Tiberius. These lines from Homer often come to mind:”

Toutou d’ espomenoio kai ek pyros aithomenoio  
Ampho nostaesuimen, epei peri oide noaesai. 328

Bold from his prudence, I could ev’n aspire  
To dare with him the burning rage of fire.

“When I hear and read that you are worn out by (208) the constant toils you endure, may the gods confound me if I am not filled with dread! So I beg you to take care—if news of your illness reached us, it might be fatal both to me and your mother, and the Roman people would be at risk for the empire’s safety. My own health counts for nothing if yours is lost. I pray the gods keep you for us, and grant you lasting health, if they have any regard for the Roman people.”

XXII. He did not announce Augustus’s death until Agrippa the younger had been eliminated. Agrippa was executed by a tribune commanding his guard, following written orders: it was then disputed whether Augustus left that order in his last moments to prevent unrest, or whether Livia wrote it under his name, with or without Tiberius’s knowledge. When the tribune came to report the deed, Tiberius replied, “I gave you no such order, and you must answer to the senate for it,” thus avoiding any public blame for the act at that time. The matter was soon hushed up.

XXIII. Having convened the senate by virtue of his tribunitian authority, Tiberius began a sorrowful speech, drawing a deep sigh as if overwhelmed by his grief; and, wishing that not only his voice but his very life might fail him, handed his speech over to his son Drusus to read. Augustus’s will was then brought in and read by a freedman; only senators were admitted among the witnesses, while the rest acknowledged their signatures outside. The will began thus: “Since my misfortune has deprived me of my two sons, Caius and Lucius, let Tiberius Caesar be heir to two-thirds of my estate.” These words fueled the suspicion among some that Tiberius was appointed more out of necessity than choice, since Augustus apparently could not help but preface his will in that way.

XXIV. Though Tiberius made no hesitation in assuming and exercising the imperial authority immediately—ordering that he be attended by the guards, who were both the security and the symbol of supreme power—he still made a show, by a rather brazen display, of refusing it for a long time. At one moment, he sharply scolded his friends who urged him to accept it, claiming they little understood what a monster the government was; at another, he kept the senate in suspense as they implored him at his feet, answering ambiguously and pretending indecision. Some grew impatient, and one, during the confusion, shouted, “Either let him accept it, or decline it at once!” Another said directly, “Others are slow to do what they promise, but you are slow to promise what you have already done.” At last, as if forced by necessity and complaining of the heavy and miserable burden placed on him, he accepted the government—though not without promising he might one day resign. His exact words were: “Until the time shall come, when you may think it right to grant some rest to my old age.”

XXV. The reason for his long hesitation was his fear of dangers surrounding him on all sides; so much so that he often said, “I have got a wolf by the ears.” For a slave of Agrippa, named Clemens, had gathered a substantial force to avenge his master’s death; Lucius Scribonius Libo, a distinguished senator, was secretly planning a rebellion; and the troops both in Illyricum and Germany were mutinous. Both armies were demanding especially that their pay be brought up to that of the praetorian guards. The army in Germany outright refused to recognize a prince they had not chosen themselves, and pressured their commander, Germanicus, to take the government upon himself, though he stubbornly refused. This threat pushed Tiberius to request that the senate assign him only a share in administration, as they saw fit, arguing that no one man was enough for the entire burden without help. He also pretended to be in poor health, so that Germanicus would more patiently wait for his own likely turn at power, or at least to be admitted as a co-ruler. After the army mutinies were quelled, he managed to capture Clemens by trickery. Wanting not to begin his reign with severity, Tiberius did not bring Libo to trial before the senate until his second year, meanwhile taking measures for his own safety. For example, when Libo attended a sacrifice among the high priests, Tiberius ordered that instead of the regular knife, one made of lead be given to him; and when Libo requested a private meeting, it was granted only on the condition that Drusus, Tiberius’s son, be present. When walking together, Tiberius held Libo’s right hand firmly—on the pretense of needing support—until the conversation ended.

XXVI. Once freed from these fears, his manner at first was modest, and he conducted himself little above the level of a private citizen; out of the many great honors offered to him, he accepted only a few, and those were rather modest. His birthday, which occurred during the Plebeian Circus Games, he only reluctantly allowed to be honored by adding a single two-horse chariot to the festivities. He forbade temples, flamens, or priests from being appointed in his honor, as well as the erection of statues or likenesses of himself without his approval—which he granted only on condition that they be placed among household ornaments, not with the images of the gods. He intervened to stop the senate from swearing to uphold his acts, and blocked the month of September from being named Tiberius, and October after Livia. He also refused the title EMPEROR as a praenomen, as well as FATHER OF HIS COUNTRY, and a civic crown in his house’s entrance. He never used the name AUGUSTUS, though inherited, in any of his letters except those sent to kings and princes. He held only three consulships: one lasting just a few days, another for three months, and a third, held while he was away from the city, until the ides of May.

XXVII. Such was his aversion to flattery that he never allowed any senator to approach his litter on the street, either for courtesy or business. When a man of consular rank, seeking pardon for some offense, tried to fall at his feet, Tiberius sprang away so quickly that he stumbled and fell. If someone paid him a compliment, either in conversation or formal speech, he would freely interrupt, reprimand, and amend their words. On being called “lord” by an individual, he asked never to be so insulted again. When a second man described his duties as “sacred,” and a third said, “By your authority I have attended the senate,” he made them alter their wording; substituting “persuasion” for “authority,” and “laborious” for “sacred.”

XXVIII. He paid no heed to insults, gossip, or satirical writings spread against him or his family, declaring, “In a free state, both the tongue and the mind ought to be free.” When the senate sought action against such offenses and the perpetrators, he replied, “We don’t have so much time to waste as to involve ourselves in more business. If you open the door to such cases, soon you’ll have nothing else to do; all private quarrels will be brought before you under that guise.” Another notable remark recorded from him in the senate showed his humility: “If anyone speaks poorly of me, I will strive to behave in such a way as to give a good account of my words and deeds; and if he persists, I will detest him in return.”

XXIX. Such actions were all the more remarkable in him because, in his deference to individuals and the entire senate, he sometimes went to excessive lengths. When he disagreed with Quintus Haterius in the senate-house, he said, “Pardon me, sir, I beg, if as a senator I speak my mind quite freely in opposition to you.” Speaking later to the entire senate, he said: “Conscript Fathers, I have often said, both now and on other occasions, that a good and useful prince—whom you’ve entrusted with such great and absolute power—ought to be a servant to the senate, to the whole people, and quite often to individuals too; nor do I regret saying this. I have always found you good, kind, and generous masters, and still find you so.”

XXX. He also preserved an appearance of liberty by maintaining the former dignity and authority of the senate and magistrates. All matters, great or small, public or private, were brought before the senate. Taxes, monopolies, new building projects or repairs, the conscription and discharge of soldiers, the placement of legions and auxiliary forces in the provinces, the appointment of generals for special wars, and replies to letters from foreign rulers were all submitted to the senate. He forced a cavalry commander accused of violent robbery to defend himself before the senate. He never entered the senate house with attendants; and if he ever had to be carried there in a litter due to illness, he dismissed his retinue at the door.

XXXI. When decrees were passed against his wishes, he didn’t complain. And though he believed that no magistrates after nomination should leave the city, but remain to accept their honors in person, a praetor-elect was granted leave to depart, being named a legate at large. Likewise, when he proposed to the senate that the Trebians be allowed to use a legacy meant to build a theater for building a road instead, he could not persuade them to override the donor’s will. On another vote, when he joined the minority, no one followed him. Other public business continued to be managed by the usual magistrates and procedures; so much so that the consuls retained such authority ambassadors from Africa complained they could not get their business settled by Caesar himself, to whom they had been sent. Unsurprisingly, it was noted that Tiberius himself would rise to greet the consuls and let them go first.

\(213\) XXXII. He reprimanded some consular commanders for not writing reports to the senate about their activities, and for seeking his approval on distributing military rewards, as if they had no authority to make such decisions on their own. He praised a praetor who, on taking office, revived an old tradition by delivering a speech honoring his ancestors to the people. He personally attended the funerals of several prominent citizens. He showed similar restraint even in lesser matters: city magistrates of Rhodes once sent him an unsigned public letter—he summoned them, and rather than scold, simply asked them to sign it and let them go. Once, Diogenes the grammarian, who held public lectures in Rhodes every Sabbath, refused Tiberius admittance when he came unexpectedly, sending a servant to ask him to return on the next Sabbath. Later, when Diogenes came to Rome and waited at Tiberius’s door to pay his respects, he received a message to return in seven years’ time. To some provincial governors who advised imposing higher taxes, he replied: “It is the part of a good shepherd to shear, not flay, his sheep.”

XXXIII. He took on the sovereignty 332 by gradual steps, exercising it for a long time with varied conduct, though for the most part, with due regard for the public good. At the start, he intervened only to prevent poor management; he canceled some senate decrees, and when magistrates held court, he often acted as an assessor, sitting either among them or in a corner of the tribunal. If a rumor arose that anyone on trial was about to be acquitted thanks to Tiberius’s influence, he would appear suddenly and, from the floor or a judge’s bench, remind everyone of the laws, their oaths, and the charges. He also took on the correction of public morals whenever they declined from neglect or bad custom.

XXXIV. He reduced the cost of games and spectacles by cutting actors’ fees and limiting the number of gladiators. He complained to the senate about the soaring price of Corinthian ware, and that three mullets had sold for thirty thousand sesterces. He then proposed a new sumptuary law: that butchers and other food merchants be subject to a yearly price cap set by the senate, and the aediles oversee restaurants and taverns—to the extent that even the sale of pastries would be regulated. To set an example of frugality, at his own feasts, he would sometimes serve leftover food from the day before, including half a boar, declaring, “It has all the same good bits that the whole had.” He published an edict against the custom of people kissing upon meeting, and would not allow New Year’s gifts 333 to be given after January 1. He had previously returned such gifts fourfold and personally, but, annoyed by continual interruptions throughout the month from those who missed the actual day, he accepted no more after that.

XXXV. He allowed the closest relatives to punish married women guilty of adultery, even if not formally prosecuted, by agreement among themselves, following ancient custom. He released a Roman knight from his oath never to repudiate his wife, so that he could divorce her after she was caught in adultery with her son-in-law. Women of ill-repute had started formally declaring themselves prostitutes, giving up the rights and status of matrons, to evade legal punishment; and the most reckless young men of senatorial and equestrian rank, to escape a senate decree forbidding them to perform on stage or in the amphitheater, deliberately brought on themselves public disgrace. He banished them all, so that in the future, no one would dodge the law’s intent by such tricks. He stripped one senator of his broad-striped toga after discovering he had moved to his gardens before July 1, so he could later rent a city house at a cheaper rate. He dismissed another from the quaestorship for divorcing, just a day after winning office by lot, the wife he had just married.

XXXVI. He suppressed all foreign religions, including Egyptian 334 and Jewish rites, requiring those who practiced those superstitions to burn their vestments and sacred utensils. He distributed Jewish youths, under the pretense of conscription for military service, among provinces notorious for unhealthy climate; and expelled from the city all others of that nation, as well as converts, imposing the penalty of lifelong slavery if they disobeyed. He also banished astrologers; but after they petitioned and promised to quit their profession, he reversed the order.

XXXVII. Above all, he was careful to maintain public order against robbers, burglars, and government opponents. He increased military guard posts throughout Italy, and built a camp for the praetorian guards at Rome, which until then had been quartered within the city. He suppressed all public disturbances with vigor from the outset, taking every measure to prevent them. When people were killed in a theater brawl, he banished the ringleaders and the actors at the center of the conflict; and never relented, despite the crowds’ pleas. The people of Pollentia refused to allow the removal of a centurion’s corpse from the forum until his heirs paid for a gladiatorial show; Tiberius responded by sending a cohort from Rome and another from the kingdom of Cottius 337, both secretly entering by different gates, weapons drawn and trumpets blaring. Having seized most of the townsfolk and magistrates, he sentenced them to life imprisonment. He abolished privileges of sanctuary everywhere. The Cyzicenians, after abusing some Romans, lost the freedom they had gained by their service in the Mithridatic war. He quelled foreign threats through his lieutenants, never going himself, and using them only reluctantly—preferring to subdue hostile princes with threats and warnings rather than arms. Some, like Maraboduus the German, Thrascypolis the Thracian, and Archelaus the Cappadocian, whom he enticed by fair promises to come to him, he never let return; Archelaus’s kingdom was even made a province.

XXXVIII. For two years after taking the supreme power, he did not leave the gates of Rome at all; and even afterwards, he went no farther than nearby towns, his longest journey being to Antium 338, which he rarely visited and only for a few days at a time. Though he often announced his intention to visit the provinces and armies, and each year began making plans—ordering carriages and reserving provisions in provincial towns—he never followed through. Eventually, prayers were offered for his safe journey and return, and people started jokingly calling him Callipides, after the figure in a Greek proverb famous for never getting anywhere despite always hurrying.

XXXIX. But after losing his two sons—Germanicus, who died in Syria, and Drusus, who died at Rome—he withdrew to Campania 339. At this time, people widely believed he would never return and would soon die—nearly becoming true. Indeed, he never returned to Rome, and only days after leaving, while at his villa called the Cave near Terracina 340, during supper many huge stones fell from above, killing several guests and attendants; he escaped almost miraculously.

XL. After touring Campania and dedicating the capitol at Capua and a temple to Augustus at Nola 341—ostensibly the purpose of his journey—he retired to Capri, (218) greatly enjoying the island for its isolation, as it could only be reached by a narrow strip of beach, the rest surrounded by towering cliffs and deep sea. Soon after, the people of Rome loudly demanded his return following a disaster at Fidenae 342, where over twenty thousand people died when an amphitheater collapsed during gladiator games. He did cross back to the mainland and then gave everyone free access to him—perhaps more so because, before leaving the city, he had ordered that no one approach him and had denied all audiences on his journey.

XLI. Returning to the island, he neglected all government matters, never replenishing the knightly decuriae, never changing tribunes, prefects, or provincial governors, leaving Spain and Syria without consular lieutenants for years. He let Armenia fall to the Parthians, Moesia to the Dacians and Sarmatians, and Gaul to be ravaged by the Germans, bringing great shame and peril to the empire.

XLII. With his newfound privacy, away from the public eye, he gave himself over to all the vices he had long kept hidden, and I will now give an account of them from the start. As a young soldier, he was so notorious for his fondness for wine that people called him Biberius for Tiberius, Caldius for Claudius, and Mero for Nero. After becoming emperor—and responsible for upholding public morals—he once spent two days and a night feasting and drinking with Pomponius Flaccus and Lucius Piso; he then immediately appointed one as governor of Syria and the other as city prefect, describing them in their commissions as “very pleasant companions, and friends suited to all occasions.” He dined with Sestius Gallus, a notorious old lecher disowned by Augustus and admonished by Tiberius himself just days earlier in the senate—on condition that the usual table routine be kept and that they be served by naked girls. He promoted a very obscure candidate for quaestor, passing over more distinguished rivals, just because the man drained a whole amphora in a drinking toast with him. He awarded Asellius Sabinus two hundred thousand sesterces for writing a dialogue, in which a truffle and fig-pecker, an oyster and thrush, argue their merits. He even created a special office to satisfy his appetites, appointing Titus Caesonius Priscus, a Roman knight, to the post.

XLIII. In his retreat at Capri 344, he also constructed an apartment fitted with couches, deliberately designed for the secret practice of abominable lewdness. Here, he entertained groups of girls and catamites and gathered from all over those who invented unnatural sexual acts, whom he called Spintriae, who defiled one another in his presence to inflame his flagging appetite. He had several rooms decorated with pictures and statues in the most lascivious poses, and stocked with the books of Elephantis, so that no one would lack a pattern for any obscene act prescribed to him. He also arranged private spots in the woods and groves for indulging in lust, where young people of both sexes prostituted themselves in caves and hollow rocks, dressed as little Pans and Nymphs 345. As a result, he was commonly and publicly called, abusing the name of the island, Caprineus. 346

XLIV. But he became even more infamous, if possible, for an abomination so foul it is scarcely fit to mention or believe. 347 ————————— When a painting by Parrhasius, depicting Atalanta submitting to Meleager’s lust in a most unnatural manner, was left to him on the condition that if he found the subject offensive, he could accept a million sesterces instead, he not only chose the painting, but hung it in his bedchamber. It is also said that, during a sacrifice, he was so captivated by the appearance of a youth holding a censer that, before the religious rites were even finished, he took him aside and abused him, as well as his brother, who had been playing the flute. Soon after, he broke the legs of both for reproaching one another for their shame.

XLV. His extreme lasciviousness with women of the highest ranks 348 became clear with the death of one Mallonia, who, being brought to his bed and steadfastly refusing his advances, was handed over to common informers. Even while she was on trial, he repeatedly called out to her, asking, “Do you repent?” until she left the court, went home, and stabbed herself, openly rebuking the vile old lecher for his gross obscenity 349. As a result, a farce was performed at the next public games alluding to him, which received great applause and became a popular topic of ridicule 350: that the old goat————

XLVI. He was so miserly and covetous that he never gave his attendants, during travels and campaigns, any payment except for their food. Only once, at his stepfather’s urging, did he treat them generously—dividing them into three classes by rank, he gave the first six, the second four, and the third two hundred thousand sesterces. The last group he dismissed as not friends, but merely Greeks.

XLVII. Throughout his reign, he never raised any magnificent buildings; for the only projects he undertook—the temple of Augustus and restoration of Pompey’s Theatre—he left unfinished after many years. He never organized any public spectacles for the people and rarely attended those given by others, for fear he might be asked to sponsor one; especially after he was compelled to grant freedom to the comedian Actius. After relieving the poverty of a few senators, to prevent further requests he declared that in the future, he would help only those whose circumstances were fully approved by the senate. Because of this, most needy senators, out of modesty and shame, refrained from troubling him. Among them was Hortalus, grandson of the famous orator Quintus Hortensius, who, at Augustus’s urging, had raised four children on a very small estate.

XLVIII. He showed only two instances of public generosity. One was to offer a loan—free of interest for three years—of a hundred million sesterces to those who needed to borrow; the other, to compensate those whose large houses were destroyed in the fire on Mount Caelius. He was forced into the first by the people’s uproar during a severe money shortage, having already ratified a senate decree requiring all money-lenders to lend out two-thirds of their capital on land, and debtors to repay the same amount. This had failed to solve the problem. The second act was to somewhat ease the hardship of the times. Yet he set so high a value on his compensation to the fire victims that he ordered the Caelian Hill henceforth to be called the Augustan. To the military, apart from doubling Augustus's legacy to them, he only gave a thousand denarii each to the Praetorian Guard for not joining Sejanus’s faction, and some gifts to the legions in Syria, as they alone had refused to honour Sejanus’s effigies among their standards. He seldom discharged veteran soldiers, trusting that old age would reduce their numbers and thus save rewards or pensions. Nor did he ever benefit the provinces with generosity, except for Asia, where he aided cities destroyed by an earthquake.

XLIX. In a very short time, he turned to blatant robbery. It is certain that Cneius Lentulus, the augur, a man of immense wealth, was so frightened and pressured by his threats and demands that he was forced to make Tiberius his heir. Lepida, a lady from a noble family, was condemned by him to gratify Quirinus, a rich, childless former consul who had divorced her twenty years earlier and was now accusing her of an old plot to poison him. Several distinguished persons in Gaul, Spain, Syria, and Greece had their estates confiscated for such trivial and shameless reasons that, for some, the only accusation was that they possessed large amounts of ready money. Old privileges—the rights of mining and raising tolls—were withdrawn from many cities and individuals. Vonones, king of the Parthians, who had been driven from his realm and fled to Antioch with vast treasure, seeking Roman protection, was treacherously stripped of his wealth and later murdered.

L. He first showed hostility to his own family with his brother Drusus, betraying him by producing a letter Drusus had written suggesting that Augustus be compelled to restore public liberty. In time, he showed the same attitude toward other family members. He went so far as to show no kindness or compassion to his wife when she was banished and confined by her father's order to one town; he forbade her to leave the house or speak to any man. He even cheated her out of her dowry and annual allowance through a legal technicality, because Augustus had made no direct provision for her in his will. Being harassed by his mother, Livia, who expected an equal share in governing, he often avoided (223) seeing her and avoided long or private conversations with her for fear people would think he was ruled by her advice—though he sometimes sought and followed her counsel. He was offended when the senate proposed to add to his other titles “Son of Livia” as well as Augustus. Therefore, he would not permit her to be called "Mother of her Country," or to receive any special public honour. He even warned her "not to meddle in serious matters that did not befit her sex," especially when she was seen at a fire near the Temple of Vesta 351, encouraging citizens and soldiers to exert themselves, as she had done in her husband's time.

LI. Later, he broke off relations with her entirely, supposedly over the following incident. When she often pressed him to appoint a certain new citizen as judge, he refused unless she would permit it to be entered on record that "the appointment had been forced from him by his mother." Enraged, Livia produced from her sanctuary some letters from Augustus to her, complaining of Tiberius’s sourness and arrogance; she read them aloud. So offended was he that she had kept these letters so long and now brought them out so spitefully, that some considered this a major reason, if not the main one, for his seclusion. During all the years she survived him in retirement, he saw her only once, and then for just a few hours. When she became sick soon after, he showed no concern or visited her. When she died, though he promised to attend her funeral, he delayed for several days, so that her body decayed before burial; then he prohibited divine honours for her, claiming it was at her own request. He also canceled her will and quickly ruined all her friends and associates, sparing not even those she had asked on her deathbed to look after her burial—sending one, a man of equestrian rank, to hard labour on the treadmill. 352

LII. He showed no paternal affection for his own son Drusus or his adopted son Germanicus. Displeased with Drusus’s vices and loose living, he was little moved by his death, resuming official business almost right after the funeral and reopening the courts. When the people of Ilium sent ambassadors to express their condolences a bit late, he jokingly said, as if he had already forgotten the matter, “And I heartily condole with you on the loss of your renowned countryman, Hector.” He openly belittled Germanicus, calling his achievements insignificant, blaming his most glorious victories as ruinous to the state, and complained to the senate about him for visiting Alexandria without permission during a sudden famine in Rome. It was believed he conspired to have him killed by Cneius Piso, his commander in Syria, who was put on trial for murder and was thought to have orders in a confidential letter. This led to public outcry, with posters and night-time shouts demanding, “Give us back our Germanicus.” The suspicion was further confirmed by his cruel treatment of Germanicus’s wife and children.

(225) LIII. His daughter-in-law Agrippina, after her husband’s death, complained more freely than usual. He took her by the hand and addressed her with a Greek verse meaning: “My dear child, do you think yourself wronged because you are not empress?” He never spoke to her again. When she once declined some fruit he offered at supper, he stopped inviting her, pretending she suspected he wanted to poison her—while this was his own scheme, having arranged for her to be warned not to eat it as it would be fatal. Eventually, after accusing her of planning to flee to Augustus's statue or to the army for refuge, he banished her to the island of Pandataria 353. When she protested, he had a centurion beat out one of her eyes; and when she tried to starve herself, he ordered her mouth forced open and food crammed down her throat. Yet when she succeeded in dying of hunger, he maligned her memory and persuaded the senate to label her birthday as unlucky. He also boasted of not having ordered her strangled or her body cast on the Gemonian Steps, and permitted a decree of thanks to himself for mercy, along with a gold offering to Jupiter Capitolinus.

LIV. He had three grandsons by Germanicus—Nero, Drusus, and Caius; and one, Tiberius, by his son Drusus. After losing his sons, he commended Nero and Drusus, Germanicus’s two eldest sons, to the senate, and on their formal introduction to the forum, distributed money among the people. But when he learned that in New Year’s vows they were included alongside himself, he told the senate, “such honours should only be given to those who have been tested and are older.” By revealing his true feelings, he subjected them to repeated accusations, using every trick to provoke them to insult him so he could have them charged, and finally accused them in a letter to the senate, making the most bitter charges of vice. Once declared enemies by the senate, he starved them to death—Nero on the island of Ponza, Drusus in the Palatium dungeons. It’s believed Nero was driven to suicide by being shown ropes and hooks as if sent by senate order; Drusus, crazed with hunger, tried to eat the stuffing from his mattress. Their remains were so scattered it was difficult to gather them together.

LV. Besides his longtime friends and close associates, he engaged twenty of the city’s leading men as advisers in public affairs. Of this number, barely two or three escaped destruction at his hands. The rest he executed on various pretexts, including Aelius Sejanus, whose downfall dragged many others with him. He had promoted this minister not out of loyalty, but to use his devious machinations to destroy Germanicus’s children and secure succession for his own grandson by Drusus.

LVI. He was no gentler toward the Greeks in his household, even those most favored. When he asked Zeno, who had used some obscure expressions, “What strange dialect is this?” and Zeno answered, “The Doric,” he banished him to Cinara 354, suspecting a taunt about his former residence at Rhodes where the Doric dialect was spoken. As was his habit, he raised topics at dinner based on his daily reading. When he discovered that Seleucus the grammarian was questioning others about what he had read to prepare for these discussions, he first dismissed him from his household, then drove him to take his own life.

(227) LVII. His harsh and gloomy nature showed itself even in childhood; Theodorus of Gadara 355, his rhetoric master, recognized it early, likening him to “mud mixed with blood” when he scolded him. But his character became even clearer when he took imperial power, and even in the early days when he was trying to win popular favor by pretending to be moderate. Once, as a funeral procession passed, someone called out to the corpse, “Tell Augustus that the legacies he left the people are still unpaid.” When this man was brought before him, he ordered that he be paid—and then executed, so he might deliver the message to Augustus himself. Soon after, when one Pompey, a Roman knight, stubbornly opposed him in the senate, he threatened him with prison, saying, “From a Pompey, I shall make you a Pompeian,” making a pun about his name and the ill fate of Pompey’s supporters.

LVIII. Around the same time, when a praetor asked him if he wanted the courts to consider charges of treason, he answered, “The laws ought to be enforced,” and he did just that, most harshly. Someone had removed Augustus’s head from a statue and replaced it with another 356. The case came before the senate, and since details were unclear, the witnesses were tortured. The accused was found guilty and condemned, and such proceedings went so far that even beating a slave or changing clothes near a statue of Augustus, or carrying his image on coins or a ring into a latrine or brothel, or criticizing anything he said or did, became capital crimes. One person was even sentenced to death for allowing honours for himself at his local colony on the same day honours had once been voted to Augustus.

(228) LIX. He also committed many barbaric acts under the guise of strictness and moral reform, but more to indulge his own cruelty. Some verses appeared, describing the current miseries of his reign and foretelling worse to come. 357

Asper et immitis, breviter vis omnia dicam?  
Dispeream si te mater amare potest.  
Non es eques, quare? non sunt tibi millia centum?  
Omnia si quaeras, et Rhodos exsilium est.  
Aurea mutasti Saturni saecula, Caesar:  
Incolumi nam te, ferrea semper erunt.  

Fastidit vinum, quia jam sitit iste cruorem:  
Tam bibit hunc avide, quam bibit ante merum.  
Adspice felicem sibi, non tibi, Romule, Sullam:  
Et Marium, si vis, adspice, sed reducem.  
Nec non Antoni civilia bella moventis  
Nec semel infectas adspice caede manus.  
Et dic, Roma perit: regnabit sanguine multo,  
Ad regnum quisquis venit ab exsilio.

He despises wine, for now he thirsts for blood:  
He drinks it eagerly, as he once did pure wine.  
Look on Sulla, who sought happiness for himself, not you, Roman;  
And if you wish, look on Marius—yet only on his return.  
So too with Antony, the instigator of civil war:  
See how his hands, stained with blood, bear witness more than once.  
And say, “Rome will perish; the one who comes to power from exile will rule by spilling much blood.”

Obdurate wretch! Too fierce, too cruel to stir  
Any soft feeling even in a mother's heart!  
No knight art thou, for you have no estate;  
Long did you suffer in Rhodes during exile.  
No more do we see the happy Golden Age;  
The Age of Iron has arrived—and will last with you.  
Instead of the wine he once thirsted for,  
He now wallows in streams of human blood.  
Reflect, Romans, on the dreadful times,

Made such by the crimes of Marius and Sulla. Recall how Antony’s ambition  
Twice terrified a frantic age—  
And know, alas! Rome’s blood will flow in rivers  
Whenever such outcasts rule the earth below.

At first, he wanted it believed that these satirical verses were prompted by the grievances of those impatient with strict reforms, rather than being their true sentiments. He often said, “Let them hate me, so long as they approve of my conduct.”358 In the end, however, his actions revealed he accepted that the criticism was all too deserved.

\(229\) LX. A few days after his arrival at Capri, a fisherman surprised him while he sought solitude, bringing him a large mullet. Tiberius, alarmed that the man had managed to slip up on him over such rough and steep rocks from the far side of the island, ordered his face to be scrubbed with the fish. When the fisherman, while enduring his punishment, rejoiced that he had not brought the emperor a large crab as well, Tiberius had his face further scraped with the crab’s claws. He executed one of the praetorian guards for stealing a peacock from his orchard. On one journey, after his litter was delayed by some bushes, he ordered the officer whose job it was to go ahead and clear the road—a centurion of the first cohorts—to be thrown face-down and beaten nearly to death.

LXI\. Soon after, he gave himself up to every kind of cruelty, always finding some occasion or excuse to justify it. He first targeted his mother’s friends and acquaintances, then those of his grandsons and daughter-in-law, and finally the associates of Sejanus; after Sejanus's death, his cruelty worsened. This showed he was not so much spurred on by Sejanus, but had simply used him as an opportunity to indulge his savage nature. Even though, in a brief memoir of his life, he brazenly wrote, “I punished Sejanus because I discovered he intended to destroy my son Germanicus’s children,”—one of whom Tiberius killed when he first began to suspect Sejanus, and another after Sejanus was removed. It would be tedious to list all the instances of his cruelty; a few examples will suffice. Not a day went by without some person being punished, including on public holidays and feast days. Some were even tried on New Year’s Day. Many condemned persons suffered the same fate as their wives and children, and relatives of the executed were forbidden to wear mourning. Large rewards were offered for informers, and sometimes to witnesses as well. Anyone could give evidence; all offences became capital, even careless remarks made without harm intended. A poet was prosecuted for mocking Agamemnon; a historian 359, for calling Brutus and Cassius “the last of the Romans.” Both authors were immediately summoned and their works suppressed, though years before they had been well received and read aloud to Augustus. Prisoners were denied not only the relief of study, but all company and conversation. Many, anticipating condemnation, killed themselves at home to avoid the shame of a public execution; others took poison in the senate. Their wounds were bandaged, and those barely alive were dragged to prison. Executed bodies were hurled down the Gemonian stairs, then into the Tiber. One day, twenty were treated this way, including women and boys. As it was by ancient custom forbidden to strangle virgins, young girls were raped by the executioner before being strangled. Those wishing to die were forced to live, for Tiberius considered death too slight a punishment. Upon hearing that Carnulius, under prosecution, had killed himself, he cried, “Carnulius has escaped me.” When calling the roll of his prisoners, and one begged for a speedy death, he replied, “You are not yet restored to favor.” A man of consular rank recorded that at table, with a large group, a dwarf among the jesters suddenly asked why Paconius, who had been indicted for treason, lived so long. Tiberius rebuked him for his impertinence, but soon after wrote to the senate, urging them to execute Paconius without delay.

LXII\. After hearing reports about the death of his son Drusus, Tiberius became even more brutal. At first, he believed Drusus died from a disease caused by his own excess, but on learning he was poisoned by his wife Livilla 360 and Sejanus, Tiberius spared no one from torture and execution. He was so absorbed with the investigation that after learning the man in whose house he had stayed at Rhodes—who he had invited to Rome by friendly letter—had arrived, he immediately ordered him tortured as a suspected accomplice. On realizing his mistake, he then had the man executed to prevent word of the outrage spreading. At Capri, the site is still shown where he ordered those condemned—after prolonged and excruciating torture—to be thrown off a cliff into the sea before his eyes. There, soldiers from the fleet waited below to smash their bones with poles and oars if any life remained. Among his various inventions for torture, he sometimes forced people to drink large amounts of wine, then bound their genitalia with harp strings, tormenting them by both the tightness and inability to urinate. If death had not overtaken him, and if Thrasyllus had not, as some say, persuaded him to delay certain cruelties in hopes of prolonging his life, many believe he would have destroyed even more people, not sparing even his remaining grandchildren; for he was jealous of Caius and hated Tiberius as he believed him to be illegitimate. This seems likely, for he often remarked, “Happy Priam, who outlived all his children!” 361

LXIII\. Amid these crimes, the fear, anxiety, hatred, and disgust in which he lived became obvious from many signs. He forbade private consultations with soothsayers unless witnesses were present. He tried to suppress the oracles near Rome, but gave up, frightened by the authority of the (232) Praenestine Lots 362. For though these lots were sealed in a box and taken home, they vanished until returned to the temple. He never dared send governors of consular rank to their provinces when appointed, but kept them for years, only sending them when their successors were chosen—leaving the original appointees still in his presence. Meanwhile, they held their titles and dutifully issued orders, which were carried out through their deputies and assistants.

LXIV\. He never moved his condemned daughter-in-law or grandsons363 anywhere but in chains, carried in covered litters and escorted by guards so that nobody could stop and stare at them along the road.

LXV\. After Sejanus conspired against him, Tiberius saw his birthday publicly celebrated and golden images of him worshipped everywhere, yet it was only through trickery—rather than imperial power—that he was finally able to bring about Sejanus’s death. First, to remove him from close proximity, Tiberius made him his colleague in a fifth consulship—which Tiberius accepted long after the previous one, though he was away from Rome at the time—ostensibly as a great honor. Then, coaxing him with the hope of marriage into his family, and the promise of tribunician power, he suddenly accused him of treason, writing a submissive and pitiable appeal to the senate. Among other things, he begged, “Send one of the consuls to escort me, a poor solitary old man, with a guard of soldiers, into your presence.” Still fearful of revolt, he ordered his grandson Drusus—still detained in Rome—to be released so he could, if necessary, take command of the troops. He also kept ships ready to carry him to any of the legions should escape become necessary. Meanwhile, Tiberius watched for his pre-arranged signals from a high cliff, in case his messengers delayed. Even after defeating Sejanus’s plot, Tiberius remained tormented by fear, not once leaving the Villa Jovis for nine months afterward.

LXVI\. With his anxiety at its peak, outside criticism compounded his misery. Those condemned to die abused him to his face, or left slanderous notices on senators' seats at the theatre. Sometimes, embarrassment made him wish to suppress or conceal these shameful attacks; at other times, he ignored them or even published them himself. Adding to the abuse was a letter from Artabanus, king of Parthia, who reproached him for his murders, cowardice, and debauchery, and advised him to appease his angry people—and end his own life at once.

LXVII\. Finally, weary of everything, Tiberius confessed his misery in a letter to the senate, beginning: “What to write to you, Conscript Fathers, or how to write, or what not to write at this time—may all the gods and goddesses inflict on my head a more terrible vengeance than what I daily endure, if I can tell.” Some believe he foresaw such ruin and shame from his skill in divination, and for that reason refused at the start of his reign the title “Father of the Country” and the senate’s proposal to swear to uphold his actions—lest he bring later disgrace by not living up to those honors. This is supported by his own speeches on the subject. For example, he said, “I shall always be the same, and never change my conduct as long as I have my senses; but, to avoid setting a harmful precedent, the senate should be careful of binding itself to the actions of any person, who might by some chance be forced to change them.” And again: “If you should ever doubt my conduct, and my devotion to you—heaven grant I may die sooner than see such a change—the title of Father will add no honor to me but shame to you, for your rashness in conferring it on me or your inconsistency in then changing your opinion.”

LXVIII\. He was tall and large-framed; taller than average, broad in shoulders and chest, and otherwise well-proportioned. He used his left hand more skillfully and powerfully than his right, and his finger strength was such that he could pierce a fresh apple or bruise a boy's head with a flick. His skin was fair, and he wore his hair so long at the back it covered his neck—a distinction favored by his family. His face was handsome, but often covered in pimples. His eyes were large, and could see in the dark or after waking, though this did not last long. He carried himself with a stiff and upright neck, usually with a frown and mostly silent. When speaking, he did so slowly, making slight gestures with his fingers. All these, awkward habits and signs of arrogance, were noted by Augustus, who often apologized for them to the senate and people, saying “they were natural defects, not signs of a bad character.” He enjoyed good health almost his whole time in power, but from the age of thirty, managed his own health without medical advice.

LXIX\. In regard to the gods, and matters of religion, he discovered much indifference; being greatly addicted to astrology, and fully persuaded that all things were governed by fate. Yet he was extremely afraid of lightning, and when the sky was in a disturbed state, always wore a laurel crown on his head; because it is supposed that the leaf of that tree is never touched by the lightning.

\(235\) LXX. He applied himself with great diligence to the liberal arts, both Greek and Latin. In his Latin style, he affected to imitate Messala Corvinus 364, a venerable man, to whom he had paid much respect in his own early years. But he rendered his style obscure by excessive affectation and abstruseness, so that he was thought to speak better extempore, than in a premeditated discourse. He composed likewise a lyric ode, under the title of “A Lamentation upon the death of Lucius Caesar;” and also some Greek poems, in imitation of Euphorion, Rhianus, and Parthenius 365. These poets he greatly admired, and placed their works and statues in the public libraries, amongst the eminent authors of antiquity. On this account, most of the learned men of the time vied with each other in publishing observations upon them, which they addressed to him. His principal study, however, was the history of the fabulous ages, inquiring even into its trifling details in a ridiculous manner; for he used to try the grammarians, a class of men which, as I have already observed, he much affected, with such questions as these: “Who was Hecuba’s mother? What name did Achilles assume among the virgins? What was it that the Sirens used to sing?” And the first day that he entered the senate-house, after the death of Augustus, as if he intended to pay respect at once to his father’s memory and to the gods, he made an offering of frankincense and wine, but without any music, in imitation of Minos, upon the death of his son.

LXXI\. Though he was ready and conversant with the Greek tongue, yet he did not use it everywhere; but chiefly he avoided it in the senate-house, insomuch that having occasion to employ the word monopolium (monopoly), he first begged pardon for being obliged to adopt a foreign word. And when, in a decree of the senate, the word emblaema (emblem) was read, he proposed to have it changed, and that a Latin word should be substituted in its room; or, if no proper one could be found, to express the thing by circumlocution. A soldier (236) who was examined as a witness upon a trial, in Greek 366, he would not allow to reply, except in Latin.

LXXII\. During the whole time of his seclusion at Capri, twice only he made an effort to visit Rome. Once he came in a galley as far as the gardens near the Naumachia, but placed guards along the banks of the Tiber, to keep off all who should offer to come to meet him. The second time he travelled on the Appian Way 367, as far as the seventh mile-stone from the city, but he immediately returned, without entering it, having only taken a view of the walls at a distance. For what reason he did not disembark in his first excursion, is uncertain; but in the last, he was deterred from entering the city by a prodigy. He was in the habit of diverting himself with a snake, and upon going to feed it with his own hand, according to custom, he found it devoured by ants: from which he was advised to beware of the fury of the mob. On this account, returning in all haste to Campania, he fell ill at Astura 368; but recovering a little, went on to Circeii 369. And to obviate any suspicion of his being in a bad state of health, he was not only present at the sports in the camp, but encountered, with javelins, a wild boar, which was let loose in the arena. Being immediately seized with a pain in the side, and catching cold upon his over-heating himself in the exercise, he relapsed into a worse condition than he was before. He held out, however, for some time; and sailing as far as Misenum 370, omitted nothing (237) in his usual mode of life, not even in his entertainments, and other gratifications, partly from an ungovernable appetite, and partly to conceal his condition. For Charicles, a physician, having obtained leave of absence, on his rising from table, took his hand to kiss it; upon which Tiberius, supposing he did it to feel his pulse, desired him to stay and resume his place, and continued the entertainment longer than usual. Nor did he omit his usual custom of taking his station in the centre of the apartment, a lictor standing by him, while he took leave of each of the party by name.

LXXIII\. Meanwhile, finding, upon looking over the acts of the senate, “that some person under prosecution had been discharged, without being brought to a hearing,” for he had only written cursorily that they had been denounced by an informer; he complained in a great rage that he was treated with contempt, and resolved at all hazards to return to Capri; not daring to attempt any thing until he found himself in a place of security. But being detained by storms, and the increasing violence of his disorder, he died shortly afterwards, at a villa formerly belonging to Lucullus, in the seventy-eighth year of his age 371, and the twenty-third of his reign, upon the seventeenth of the calends of April (16th March), in the consulship of Cneius Acerronius Proculus and Caius Pontius Niger. Some think that a slow-consuming poison was given him by Caius 372. Others say that during the interval of the intermittent fever with which he happened to be seized, upon asking for food, it was denied him. Others report, that he was stifled by a pillow thrown upon him 373, when, on his recovering from a swoon, he called for his ring, which had been taken from him in the fit. Seneca writes, “That finding himself dying, he took his signet ring off his finger, and held it a while, as if he would deliver it to somebody; but put it again upon his finger, and lay for some time, with his left hand clenched, and without stirring; when suddenly summoning his attendants, (238) and no one answering the call, he rose; but his strength failing him, he fell down at a short distance from his bed.”

LXXIV\. Upon his last birth-day, he had brought a full-sized statue of the Timenian Apollo from Syracuse, a work of exquisite art, intending to place it in the library of the new temple 374; but he dreamt that the god appeared to him in the night, and assured him “that his statue could not be erected by him.” A few days before he died, the Pharos at Capri was thrown down by an earthquake. And at Misenum, some embers and live coals, which were brought in to warm his apartment, went out, and after being quite cold, burst out into a flame again towards evening, and continued burning very brightly for several hours.

LXXV\. The people were so much elated at his death, that when they first heard the news, they ran up and down the city, some crying out, “Away with Tiberius to the Tiber;” others exclaiming, “May the earth, the common mother of mankind, and the infernal gods, allow him no abode in death, but amongst the wicked.” Others threatened his body with the hook and the Gemonian stairs, their indignation at his former cruelty being increased by a recent atrocity. It had been provided by an act of the senate, that the execution of condemned criminals should always be deferred until the tenth day after the sentence. Now this fell on the very day when the news of Tiberius’s death arrived, and in consequence of which the unhappy men implored a reprieve, for mercy’s sake; but, as Caius had not yet arrived, and there was no one else to whom application could be made on their behalf, their guards, apprehensive of violating the law, strangled them, and threw them down the Gemonian stairs. This roused the people to a still greater abhorrence of the tyrant’s memory, since his cruelty continued in use even after he was dead. As soon as his corpse was begun to be moved from Misenum, many cried out for its being carried to Atella 375, and being half burnt there (239) in the amphitheatre. It was, however, brought to Rome, and burnt with the usual ceremony.

LXXVI. He had made about two years before, duplicates of his will, one written by his own hand, and the other by that of one of his freedmen; and both were witnessed by some persons of very mean rank. He appointed his two grandsons, Caius by Germanicus, and Tiberius by Drusus, joint heirs to his estate; and upon the death of one of them, the other was to inherit the whole. He gave likewise many legacies; amongst which were bequests to the Vestal Virgins, to all the soldiers, and each one of the people of Rome, and to the magistrates of the several quarters of the city.

* * * * * *

At the death of Augustus, there had elapsed so long a period from the overthrow of the republic by Julius Caesar, that few were now living who had been born under the ancient constitution of the Romans; and the mild and prosperous administration of Augustus, during forty-four years, had by this time reconciled the minds of the people to a despotic government. Tiberius, the adopted son of the former sovereign, was of mature age; and though he had hitherto lived, for the most part, abstracted from any concern with public affairs, yet, having been brought up in the family of Augustus, he was acquainted with his method of government, which, there was reason to expect, he would render the model of his own. Livia, too, his mother, and the relict of the late emperor, was still living, a woman venerable by years, who had long been familiar with the councils of Augustus, and from her high rank, as well as uncommon affability, possessed an extensive influence amongst all classes of the people.

Such were the circumstances in favour of Tiberius’s succession at the demise of Augustus; but there were others of a tendency disadvantageous to his views. His temper was haughty and reserved: Augustus had often apologised for the ungraciousness of his manners. He was disobedient to his mother; and though he had not openly discovered any propensity to vice, he enjoyed none of those qualities which usually conciliate popularity. To these considerations it is to be added, that Postumus Agrippa, the grandson of Augustus by Julia, was living; and if consanguinity was to be the rule of succession, his right was indisputably preferable to that of an adopted son. Augustus had sent this youth into exile a few years before; but, towards the close (240) of his life, had expressed a design of recalling him, with the view, as was supposed, of appointing him his successor. The father of young Agrippa had been greatly beloved by the Romans; and the fate of his mother, Julia, though she was notorious for her profligacy, had ever been regarded by them with peculiar sympathy and tenderness. Many, therefore, attached to the son the partiality entertained for his parents; which was increased not only by a strong suspicion, but a general surmise, that his elder brothers, Caius and Lucius, had been violently taken off, to make way for the succession of Tiberius. That an obstruction was apprehended to Tiberius’s succession from this quarter, is put beyond all doubt, when we find that the death of Augustus was industriously kept secret, until young Agrippa should be removed; who, it is generally agreed, was dispatched by an order from Livia and Tiberius conjointly, or at least from the former. Though, by this act, there remained no rival to Tiberius, yet the consciousness of his own want of pretensions to the Roman throne, seems to have still rendered him distrustful of the succession; and that he should have quietly obtained it, without the voice of the people, the real inclination of the senate, or the support of the army, can be imputed only to the influence of his mother, and his own dissimulation. Ardently solicitous to attain the object, yet affecting a total indifference; artfully prompting the senate to give him the charge of the government, at the time that he intimated an invincible reluctance to accept it; his absolutely declining it in perpetuity, but fixing no time for an abdication; his deceitful insinuation of bodily infirmities, with hints likewise of approaching old age, that he might allay in the senate all apprehensions of any great duration of his power, and repress in his adopted son, Germanicus, the emotions of ambition to displace him; form altogether a scene of the most insidious policy, inconsistency, and dissimulation.

In this period died, in the eighty-sixth year of her age, Livia Drusilla, mother of the emperor, and the relict of Augustus, whom she survived fifteen years. She was the daughter of L. Drusus Calidianus and married Tiberius Claudius Nero, by whom she had two sons, Tiberius and Drusus. The conduct of this lady seems to justify the remark of Caligula, that “she was an Ulysses in a woman’s dress.” Octavius first saw her as she fled from the danger which threatened her husband, who had espoused the cause of Antony; and though she was then pregnant, he resolved to marry her; whether with her own inclination or not, is left by Tacitus undetermined. To pave the way for this union, he divorced his wife Scribonia, and with the approbation of the Augurs, which he could have no difficulty in obtaining, celebrated (241) his nuptials with Livia. There ensued from this marriage no issue, though much desired by both parties; but Livia retained, without interruption, an unbounded ascendancy over the emperor, whose confidence she abused, while the uxorious husband little suspected that he was cherishing in his bosom a viper who was to prove the destruction of his house. She appears to have entertained a predominant ambition of giving an heir to the Roman empire; and since it could not be done by any fruit of her marriage with Augustus, she resolved on accomplishing that end in the person of Tiberius, the eldest son by her former husband. The plan which she devised for this purpose, was to exterminate all the male offspring of Augustus by his daughter Julia, who was married to Agrippa; a stratagem which, when executed, would procure for Tiberius, through the means of adoption, the eventual succession to the empire. The cool yet sanguinary policy, and the patient perseverance of resolution, with which she prosecuted her design, have seldom been equalled. While the sons of Julia were yet young, and while there was still a possibility that she herself might have issue by Augustus, she suspended her project, in the hope, perhaps, that accident or disease might operate in its favour; but when the natural term of her constitution had put a period to her hopes of progeny, and when the grandsons of the emperor were risen to the years of manhood, and had been adopted by him, she began to carry into execution what she long had meditated. The first object devoted to destruction was C. Caesar Agrippa, the eldest of Augustus’s grandsons. This promising youth was sent to Armenia, upon an expedition against the Persians; and Lollius, who had been his governor, either accompanied him thither from Rome, or met him in the East, where he had obtained some appointment. From the hand of this traitor, perhaps under the pretext of exercising the authority of a preceptor, but in reality instigated by Livia, the young prince received a fatal blow, of which he died some time after.

The manner of Caius’s death seems to have been carefully kept from the knowledge of Augustus, who promoted Lollius to the consulship, and made him governor of a province; but, by his rapacity in this station, he afterwards incurred the emperor’s displeasure. The true character of this person had escaped the keen discernment of Horace, as well as the sagacity of the emperor; for in two epistles addressed to Lollius, he mentions him as great and accomplished in the superlative degree; maxime Lolli, liberrime Lolli; so imposing had been the manners and address of this deceitful courtier.

Lucius, the second son of Julia, was banished into Campania, (242) for using, as it is said, seditious language against his grandfather. In the seventh year of his exile Augustus proposed to recall him; but Livia and Tiberius, dreading the consequences of his being restored to the emperor’s favour, put in practice the expedient of having him immediately assassinated. Postumus Agrippa, the third son, incurred the displeasure of his grandfather in the same way as Lucius, and was confined at Surrentum, where he remained a prisoner until he was put to death by the order either of Livia alone, or in conjunction with Tiberius, as was before observed.

Such was the catastrophe, through the means of Livia, of all the grandsons of Augustus; and reason justifies the inference, that she who scruple not to lay violent hands upon those young men, had formerly practised every artifice that could operate towards rendering them obnoxious to the emperor. We may even ascribe to her dark intrigues the dissolute conduct of Julia for the woman who could secretly act as procuress to her own husband, would feel little restraint upon her mind against corrupting his daughter, when such an effect might contribute to answer the purpose which she had in view. But in the ingratitude of Tiberius, however undutiful and reprehensible in a son towards a parent, she at last experienced a just retribution for the crimes in which she had trained him to procure the succession to the empire. To the disgrace of her sex, she introduced amongst the Romans the horrible practice of domestic murder, little known before the times when the thirst or intoxication of unlimited power had vitiated the social affections; and she transmitted to succeeding ages a pernicious example, by which immoderate ambition might be gratified, at the expense of every moral obligation, as well as of humanity.

One of the first victims in the sanguinary reign of the present emperor, was Germanicus, the son of Drusus, Tiberius’s own brother, and who had been adopted by his uncle himself. Under any sovereign, of a temper different from that of Tiberius, this amiable and meritorious prince would have been held in the highest esteem. At the death of his grandfather Augustus, he was employed in a war in Germany, where he greatly distinguished himself by his military achievements; and as soon as intelligence of that event arrived, the soldiers, by whom he was extremely beloved, unanimously saluted him emperor. Refusing, however, to accept this mark of their partiality, he persevered in allegiance to the government of his uncle, and prosecuted the war with success. Upon the conclusion of this expedition, he was sent, with the title of emperor in the East, to repress the seditions of the Armenians, in which he was equally successful. But the (243) fame which he acquired, served only to render him an object of jealousy to Tiberius, by whose order he was secretly poisoned at Daphne, near Antioch, in the thirty-fourth year of his age. The news of Germanicus’s death was received at Rome with universal lamentation; and all ranks of the people entertained an opinion, that, had he survived Tiberius, he would have restored the freedom of the republic. The love and gratitude of the Romans decreed many honours to his memory. It was ordered, that his name should be sung in a solemn procession of the Salii; that crowns of oak, in allusion to his victories, should be placed upon curule chairs in the hall pertaining to the priests of Augustus; and that an effigy of him in ivory should be drawn upon a chariot, preceding the ceremonies of the Circensian games. Triumphal arches were erected, one at Rome, another on the banks of the Rhine, and a third upon Mount Amanus in Syria, with inscriptions of his achievements, and that he died for his services to the republic.

His obsequies were celebrated, not with the display of images and funeral pomp, but with the recital of his praises and the virtues which rendered him illustrious. From a resemblance in his personal accomplishments, his age, the manner of his death, and the vicinity of Daphne to Babylon, many compared his fate to that of Alexander the Great. He was celebrated for humanity and benevolence, as well as military talents, and amidst the toils of war, found leisure to cultivate the arts of literary genius. He composed two comedies in Greek, some epigrams, and a translation of Aratus into Latin verse. He married Agrippina, the daughter of M. Agrippa, by whom he had nine children. This lady, who had accompanied her husband into the east, carried his ashes to Italy, and accused his murderer, Piso; who, unable to bear up against the public odium incurred by that transaction, laid violent hands upon himself. Agrippina was now nearly in the same predicament with regard to Tiberius, that Ovid had formerly been in respect of Augustus. He was sensible, that when she accused Piso, she was not ignorant of the person by whom the perpetrator of the murder had been instigated; and her presence, therefore, seeming continually to reproach him with his guilt, he resolved to rid himself of a person become so obnoxious to his sight, and banished her to the island of Pandataria, where she died some time afterwards of famine.

But it was not sufficient to gratify this sanguinary tyrant, that he had, without any cause, cut off both Germanicus and his wife Agrippina: the distinguished merits and popularity of that prince were yet to be revenged upon his children; and accordingly he (244) set himself to invent a pretext for their destruction. After endeavouring in vain, by various artifices, to provoke the resentment of Nero and Drusus against him, he had recourse to false accusation, and not only charged them with seditious designs, to which their tender years were ill adapted, but with vices of a nature the most scandalous. By a sentence of the senate, which manifested the extreme servility of that assembly, he procured them both to be declared open enemies to their country. Nero he banished to the island of Pontia, where, like his unfortunate mother, he miserably perished by famine; and Drusus was doomed to the same fate, in the lower part of the Palatium, after suffering for nine days the violence of hunger, and having, as is related, devoured part of his bed. The remaining son, Caius, on account of his vicious disposition, he resolved to appoint his successor on the throne, that, after his own death, a comparison might be made in favour of his memory, when the Romans should be governed by a sovereign yet more vicious and more tyrannical, if possible, than himself.

Sejanus, the minister in the present reign, imitated with success, for some time, the hypocrisy of his master; and, had his ambitious temper, impatient of attaining its object, allowed him to wear the mask for a longer period, he might have gained the imperial diadem; in the pursuit of which he was overtaken by that fate which he merited still more by his cruelties than his perfidy to Tiberius. This man was a native of Volsinium in Tuscany, and the son of a Roman knight. He had first insinuated himself into the favour of Caius Caesar, the grandson of Augustus, after whose death he courted the friendship of Tiberius, and obtained in a short time his entire confidence, which he improved to the best advantage. The object which he next pursued, was to gain the attachment of the senate, and the officers of the army; besides whom, with a new kind of policy, he endeavoured to secure in his interest every lady of distinguished connections, by giving secretly to each of them a promise of marriage, as soon as he should arrive at the sovereignty. The chief obstacles in his way were the sons and grandsons of Tiberius; and these he soon sacrificed to his ambition, under various pretences. Drusus, the eldest of this progeny, having in a fit of passion struck the favourite, was destined by him to destruction. For this purpose, he had the presumption to seduce Livia, the wife of Drusus, to whom she had borne several children; and she consented to marry her adulterer upon the death of her husband, who was soon after poisoned, through the means of an eunuch named Lygdus, by order of her and Sejanus.

Drusus was the son of Tiberius by Vipsania, one of Agrippa’s (245) daughters. He displayed great intrepidity during the war in the provinces of Illyricum and Pannonia, but appears to have been dissolute in his morals. Horace is said to have written the Ode in praise of Drusus at the desire of Augustus; and while the poet celebrates the military courage of the prince, he insinuates indirectly a salutary admonition to the cultivation of the civil virtues:

Doctrina sed vim promovet insitam,  
Rectique cultus pectora roborant:  
Utcunque defecere mores,  
Dedecorant bene nata culpae.—Ode iv. 4.

Yet wise instruction, refining the soul  
And raising genius, offers wondrous aid,  
Imparting inward, as it purely flows,  
Strength to the mind and vigor to the heart:  
When morals fail, the stains of vice disgrace  
The fairest honors of the noblest race.—Francis.

After the death of Drusus, Sejanus openly declared his wish to marry the widowed princess. Tiberius, however, opposed this, and at the same time put forward Germanicus to the senate as his successor in the empire. The mind of Sejanus was now, more than ever, inflamed by the combined, and now furious, passions of love and ambition. He pressed his request even more urgently; but the emperor still refused his consent. As events were not yet ready for an immediate revolt, Sejanus saw nothing as more favorable to his plans than the absence of Tiberius from the capital. Under the pretense of relieving his master from the burdens of government, he persuaded him to retire far from Rome. The emperor, indolent and indulgent, approved the proposal and withdrew to Campania, leaving his ambitious minister in charge of the empire. Had Sejanus acted with ordinary prudence and moderation, he might have achieved all his ambitions; but his natural impetuousness and intoxication with power drove him into actions that soon led to his downfall. Acting as if completely freed from his master's control, he publicly proclaimed himself sovereign of the Roman empire and claimed that Tiberius, who had now retired to Capri, was merely the dependent ruler of that minor island. He even went so far as to have the emperor mocked on stage. Tiberius soon received news of Sejanus’s actions at Capri; his outrage was immediate. Trusting in his long-held authority, he sent orders for Sejanus to be accused (246) before the senate. As soon as this order arrived, Sejanus’s followers deserted him; he was quickly arrested without resistance, and strangled in prison the same day.

Human nature recoils in horror at the cruelties of this notorious tyrant, who, after staining his hands with the blood of his own family, unleashed his violence on the public with unrestrained fury. Neither age nor gender was safe from his insatiable lust for blood. Innocent children were condemned to death and killed before their parents; innocent virgins were killed in similar fashion: but since an ancient custom forbade strangling females in such situations, they were first raped by the executioner, then strangled—as if making cruelty more atrocious could justify it. Fathers were forcibly made to witness their children’s deaths, and even a mother's tears at her child’s execution could be punished by a death sentence. Some extraordinary disasters, caused by accident, added to the era’s misery. Many houses on Mount Caelius were destroyed by fire; and with the collapse of a temporary structure at Fidenae, built for public shows, about twenty thousand people were either severely injured or crushed to death in the ruins.

Another fire later broke out, destroying part of the Circus along with the many buildings on Mount Aventine. The only act of generosity Tiberius showed during his reign was in response to these fires, when, to soften the harshness of his rule, he reimbursed the largest sufferers for their losses.

Throughout his life, Tiberius behaved with consistent aversion to natural feeling. Occasionally sociable, but generally unsocial, he harbored, from his youth, a morose disposition that mimicked austere virtue; and in the twilight of life—when most people reform from youthful excess—he plunged into vices the most unnatural and detestable. Considering the perverse passions that always simmered in his heart, it is surprising he maintained outward decency for so many years after acceding to power; but although he lacked reverence or affection for his mother, he still felt a filial awe during her lifetime. After her death, he was held in check by a slavish fear of Sejanus, until political necessity freed him from that restraint as well. With both these restraints gone, (247) he indulged his desires without any check, either of conscience or authority.

Pliny relates that the art of making malleable glass was actually discovered during Tiberius’s reign, and that the creator’s workshop and tools were destroyed, fearing that such an invention would diminish the value of gold and silver. Dion adds that the inventor was put to death.

The gloom that overshadowed Rome during this sorrowful period also cast a harmful influence over the development of science throughout the empire, causing literature to languish in direct contrast to its flourishing days under Tiberius’s predecessor. It is uncertain whether this decline would have occurred even if Tiberius had ruled as mildly as Augustus. The enormous fame of Augustan-age writers suppressed ambition and caused a general decline in literary efforts for some time. The banishment of Ovid, and the execution of a subsequent poet for criticizing Agamemnon, likely discouraged further poetic endeavors. There now remained no counterbalance to these disadvantages: genius found no patron in either the emperor or his minister, and the palace doors were closed to those pursuing the Muses’ arts. Panders, catamites, assassins, and criminals of all kinds became the constant company of the tyrant now on the throne. Still, even this emperor is said to have appreciated the arts, and wrote a lyric poem on the death of Lucius Caesar, as well as some Greek poems imitating Euphorion, Rhianus, and Parthenius. None of these have survived to our times: and if we accept Catullus’s idea that to be a good poet one must also be a good person, there is little regret in their loss.

We find no noteworthy poetry during this reign, and only a few prose writers, as the following account shows.——

VELLEIUS PATERCULUS was born to an equestrian family in Campania and served as a military tribune under Tiberius in his campaigns in Gaul and Germany. He wrote an Epitome of the History of Greece and Rome, also covering some other ancient nations: but only fragments of the Greek and Roman histories remain, from the conquest of Perseus to the seventeenth year of Tiberius. The work, in two books, is addressed to Marcus Vinicius, who (248) held the consulship. Fast-paced and concise, as well as stylistically elegant, it presents a delightful compendium of ancient events, enlivened with anecdotes and vivid character descriptions. In covering Augustus’s family, Paterculus is understandably partial, and even more so in the later part of his history, where he heaps praise on Tiberius and Sejanus. He hints at a plan to give a fuller account of the civil war after Julius Caesar's death, but if he ever wrote it, it has not survived. Generally fair but decisive in judging motives and actions, except for occasional invective against Pompey, he is slow to censure but free with praise—sometimes risking excess. Still, the charm and apparent sincerity of his compliments make them palatable. He ends his history with a prayer for the Roman empire’s prosperity.——

VALERIUS MAXIMUS was of Patrician descent, but little else is known, except that he served for a time under Sextus Pompey. He later became a writer, producing in nine books a collection of notable sayings and deeds of distinguished people, starting with Romans, then foreigners. The topics cover political, moral, and natural categories, organized by class. His transitions are often graceful, and his remarks show good judgment and insight. Valerius Maximus is not guilty of stylistic affectation, but sometimes lacks the linguistic purity expected in the age of Tiberius, to whom the work is dedicated. We do not know why he dedicated it thus, but, as a passage in the ninth book shows, the dedication came after Sejanus’s death—during the most shameful period of Tiberius’s reign—so we cannot think highly of Valerius’s independence, given his willingness to flatter a tyrant at the height of infamy. Nor can we attribute it to some subtle attempt at indirect admonition to Tiberius; such an effort would only have fueled the emperor’s resentment.——

PHAEDRUS, a native of Thrace, was brought to Rome as a slave. He was fortunate to enter Augustus's service, and, improving his talents through study, gained the emperor’s favor and was made a freedman. In Tiberius’s reign, he translated Aesop’s Fables into iambic verse. These are in five books, remarkable for the precision and simplicity of their ideas, and for their purity and elegance of style; they express moral values with natural ease and impressive clarity. Phaedrus suffered persecution for a while from Sejanus, who, aware of his own guilt, suspected that the poet’s praise of virtue was a veiled attack on him. Phaedrus’s work is among the latest rediscovered since the Renaissance; it remained hidden until about two centuries ago, when found in a library at Rheims.——

HYGINUS was said to be either from Alexandria or, by other accounts, a Spaniard. Like Phaedrus, he was a freedman of Augustus. However, though diligent, he did not develop his writing as much as Phaedrus. Still, he wrote a mythological history called Fables, a work titled Poeticon Astronomicon, a treatise on agriculture, commentaries on Virgil, biographies of famous men, and some other works now lost. His surviving works are much damaged, and if authentic, they are not impressive examples of elegance or correctness.

CELSUS was a physician during Tiberius's time and wrote eight books, De Medicina, compiling and organizing all valuable material from earlier Greek and Roman medical writers. At that time, doctors belonged to three rival sects: Dogmatists, Empirics, and Methodists. The Dogmatists strayed least from Hippocrates’s approach, but all three were generally at odds in their theories and practices. Celsus judiciously selected doctrines from each. Whatever he adopted, he reinforced with sound observation and practical usefulness. For perceptiveness, force of argument, clarity, and style, he rightly holds the highest place among ancient medical writers. Celsus also wrote on agriculture, rhetoric, and military science, but no fragments of those works survive.

To this period’s writers, we must add APICIUS COELIUS, who wrote De Re Coquinaria [On Cooking]. There were three Romans named Apicius, all famous for their gluttony. The first lived in the Republic, the last in Trajan’s time, and the middle one under Augustus and Tiberius. As Seneca reports, this man spent on luxury, sexcenties sestertium—a sum equivalent to £484,375. Upon reviewing his finances, he saw that only centies sestertium, £80,729 3s. 4d., remained; thinking this too little to live on, he ended his life by poison.

## CAIUS CAESAR CALIGULA.

### (251)

I. Germanicus, the father of Caius Caesar and son of Drusus and the younger Antonia, after being adopted by his uncle Tiberius, was advanced to the quaestorship 377 five years before reaching the legal age, and immediately after that office expired, to the consulship 378. When he was sent to the army in Germany, he restored order among the legions, who, upon learning of Augustus’s death, stubbornly refused to acknowledge Tiberius as emperor 379 and even offered to place Germanicus at the head of the state. In this situation it is hard to say whether his devotion to family duty or the strength of his resolve was most remarkable. Soon afterwards, he defeated the enemy and earned the honours of a triumph. He was then made consul for the second time 380, but before he could begin his office, he had to set out suddenly for the East. There, after conquering the king of Armenia and making Cappadocia a province, he died at Antioch of a lingering illness in his thirty-fourth year 381, with lingering suspicion he had been poisoned. Besides the dark spots that appeared on his body and the foam at his mouth, when his corpse was burned, his heart was found whole among the bones; supposedly, its nature is such that, when tainted by poison, it cannot be destroyed by fire. 382

II. The widespread belief was that he was killed by the plotting of Tiberius, aided by Cneius Piso. Piso, who was then prefect of Syria and made no secret of his difficult position—either to offend the father or the son—tormented Germanicus even during his illness with relentless and obscene abuse, both in word and in deed. For this, when he returned to Rome, he barely escaped being torn apart by the people and was condemned to death by the senate.

III. It is generally agreed that Germanicus possessed all the noblest qualities of body and mind to an extent never seen before: a handsome appearance, extraordinary courage, notable skill in oratory and other studies in both Greek and Roman traditions, along with an unmatched kindness and a manner so charming that he won the hearts of everyone around him. The slenderness of his legs did not match the symmetry and beauty of the rest of his body, but he overcame this by his custom of riding after meals. In battle, he often engaged and killed an enemy in single combat. He pleaded legal cases even after achieving a triumph. Among the results of his studies, he left behind some Greek comedies. Both at home and abroad, he always carried himself with utmost modesty. When entering any free or allied town, he never allowed himself to be attended by his lictors. Whenever he heard of the graves of famous men during his travels, he would make offerings to their spirits. He provided a common grave, under an earthen mound, for the scattered remains of the legionaries slain under Varus, and was the first to take up the task of collecting and bringing them for burial. He was known for being extremely gentle, even to his enemies, no matter who they were or why they opposed him; even though Piso overturned his decrees and harassed his followers for a long time, Germanicus never showed any resentment—until he was attacked by magical spells and curses. Even then, all he did was end his friendship according to ancient custom and encourage his servants to seek revenge if anything ill should happen to him.

IV. He benefitted greatly from his noble character, earning such esteem and love from his friends that Augustus—forgoing mention of his other relatives—struggled for some time over whether to name him his successor, and finally ordered Tiberius to adopt him. Germanicus was so popular that many sources say the crowds who went to meet him on arrival, or accompanied him when departing, grew so large he was sometimes in danger of his life. Upon his return from Germany, after quelling the army mutiny, all the cohorts of the praetorian guard went out to welcome him, even though only two had been ordered to do so; all the people of Rome—men and women, of all ages and ranks—flocked as far as the twentieth milestone to greet his entry.

V. At his death, and after, the people showed even greater demonstrations of loyalty. On the day he died, stones were thrown at temples, gods’ altars were demolished, household gods were in some cases thrown into the streets, and newborn infants were abandoned. It was even said that barbarian nations—both those in civil war and those at war with Rome—all agreed to a truce, as if mourning a great friend. Some petty kings shaved their beards and their wives' heads in deep sorrow; the king of kings 383 even gave up hunting and feasting with his nobles, which among the Parthians marks a period of public mourning much as suspending public business does for Romans.

VI. In Rome, upon the first news of his illness, the city was thrown into great distress, impatiently waiting for more updates. Then, one evening, a rumor—without any known source—spread that he had recovered, and the people rushed with torches (254) and sacrificial victims to the Capitol, in such eager haste to fulfill their vows for his recovery that they nearly forced the doors open. Tiberius was woken from sleep by the noise of people congratulating one another and singing in the streets,

Salva Roma, salva patria, salvus est Germanicus.  
Rome is safe, our country is safe, for our Germanicus is safe.

But when certain news of his death arrived, the people’s mourning could not be eased by consolation nor restrained by edicts, lasting even through the December holidays. The horrors of later times only added to Germanicus's fame and the love for his memory; everyone believed, with good reason, that Germanicus's presence had restrained Tiberius's cruelty, which soon erupted after his death.

VII. Germanicus married Agrippina, the daughter of Marcus Agrippa and Julia, by whom he had nine children. Two died as infants, another—a spirited boy, whose image as Cupid Livia placed in the temple of Venus on the Capitol—a few years later. Augustus also kept another statue of him in his bedroom and used to kiss it whenever he entered. The rest of the children survived their father: three daughters—Agrippina, Drusilla, and Livilla, born in three straight years—and three sons: Nero, Drusus, and Caius Caesar. Nero and Drusus were declared public enemies at Tiberius's accusation.

VIII. Caius Caesar was born on the day before the calends of September, when his father and Caius Fonteius Capito were consuls 384. There is some doubt about where he was born, as several places claim that honor. Cneius Lentulus Gaetulicus 385 says he was born at Tibur; Pliny the Younger reports it was in the country of the Treviri, at a village called Ambiatinus, above Confluentes 386, and claims as proof that there are altars there inscribed: “For Agrippina’s child-birth.” Verses published during Caius's reign suggest he was born in the army winter quarters,

In castris natus, patriis nutritius in armis,  
Jam designati principis omen erat.

Born in the camp, raised in every toil  
His father faced to conquer Rome's proudest foe;  
Destined, he seemed, by fate to rise in fame,  
And rule the empire with Augustan name.

However, according to public records, he was born at Antium. Pliny accuses Gaetulicus of outright forgery, claiming he made this up to flatter the young emperor with the distinction of being born in a city sacred to Hercules—and did so all the more boldly because, a year before Caius’s birth, Germanicus had a son of the same name at Tibur (whose childhood and early death have been mentioned 387). But the dates show Pliny is in error: writers of Augustus’s reign agree that Germanicus was sent into Gaul after finishing his consulship, and after Caius was born. The altar inscription doesn't support Pliny’s claim, as Agrippina had two daughters while in Gaul, and the Latin word for childbirth—puerperium—covers both boys and girls, as in ancient times girls were called puerae, boys puelli. There is also a letter from Augustus to Agrippina, a few months before his death, that mentions Caius (as he was then her only living son by that name): “I gave orders yesterday for Talarius and Asellius to set out towards you, gods willing, with your child Caius, on the fifteenth of the calends of June [18th May]. I also send a physician of mine, and wrote to Germanicus to keep him if he chooses. Farewell, my dear Agrippina, and take care to (256) return safe and well to your Germanicus.” Clearly, Caius could not have been born in a place where, at nearly two years old, he was only being carried. The same line of reasoning dismisses the poetic verses, especially as the author is unknown. So the only reliable sources here are the official acts and public registers. Especially since Caius always preferred Antium as his place of retreat and showed all the fondness typically reserved for one’s birthplace; it’s even said that, when tired of the city, he planned to move the empire’s seat there.

IX. He got the nickname Caligula 388 due to the soldiers' jokes in the camp, after having been raised among them dressed as an ordinary soldier. How much this camp upbringing won their affection was obvious in the army mutiny after Augustus’s death: just seeing him calmed their fury, though the unrest had grown fierce, and they did not relent until he was taken away to a nearby city 389 for his safety. Only then did they begin to regret their actions and stopped the chariot carrying him, begging to avoid the disgrace such conduct would bring them.

X. He also accompanied his father’s campaign in Syria. After returning, he lived first with his mother, and after her banishment, with his great-grandmother, Livia Augusta. Livia, after her death, was eulogized by the young Caius with a funeral oration from the Rostra. He then lived with his grandmother Antonia. Later, at age twenty, called by Tiberius to Capri, he assumed the manly toga and shaved his beard all in the same day, but did not receive any of the honours his brothers had at the same age (257). While on the island, many devious tricks were used to get him to complain about Tiberius, but he wisely avoided such traps 390. He acted as if the misfortunes of his family were of no concern, behaved as though he personally felt no suffering, and was so obedient to his step-grandfather 391 and all around him, that it was rightly said, “There never was a better servant, nor a worse master.”

XI. Even then, he could not hide his natural cruelty and lust. He loved watching punishments, frequented taverns and brothels at night, disguised in a wig and long coat, and was wildly passionate about singing and dancing. Tiberius readily turned a blind eye to all these antics, hoping they might soften his harsh temper—a tendency the wise old man understood so well that he often remarked, “Caius is destined to destroy himself and everyone else; I am raising a hydra 392 for the Roman people and a Phaeton for the whole world.” 393

XII. Not long after, he married Junia Claudilla, the daughter of Marcus Silanus, a man of the highest rank. Being then chosen as augur to replace his brother Drusus, before he could be inaugurated he was advanced to the pontificate, receiving much praise for his dutiful conduct and great ability. The situation at court also favored his prospects at this time, as support was lacking: Sejanus was under suspicion and soon thereafter removed; he was gradually encouraged to hope that he might succeed Tiberius as emperor. To secure this goal more firmly, when Junia died in childbirth, he began a scandalous relationship with Ennia Naevia, the wife (258) of Macro, then prefect of the praetorian cohorts; he promised to marry her if he became emperor, pledging himself not only by oath but also in a written contract in his own hand. By her influence, he won Macro’s favor. Some believe he then attempted to poison Tiberius, and ordered that his ring be taken from him before he died; and, since Tiberius clung to it tightly, he supposedly had a pillow thrown over him 394, personally strangling him at the same time. When one of his freedmen cried out at this brutal act, he was immediately crucified. These events are not unlikely, as some authors say that although he never admitted to having a role in Tiberius' death, he openly admitted to having once entertained such a plan; and as evidence of his love for his family, he would often boast, “To avenge my mother’s and brothers’ deaths, I once entered Tiberius’ chamber with a dagger while he slept, but was seized by compassion, threw it away, and left; and Tiberius, though aware of my intention, dared not question or punish me.”

XIII. Having thus secured imperial power, his rise fulfilled the wish of the Roman people—and, I might say, all humanity; for he had long been the focus of hope and desire for most of the provinces and the army, who remembered him as a child, as well as for all the people of Rome, who cherished memories of Germanicus his father, and felt pity for a family nearly wiped out. Therefore, when he moved from Misenum, even while in mourning and following Tiberius’s body, he had to walk through crowds, altars, sacrificial victims, and torches, with vast numbers of cheering people calling him, along with other auspicious names, “their star,” “their chick,” “their pretty puppet,” and “bantling.”

XIV. As soon as he entered the city, through the joint acclamations of the senate and people—who even forced their way into the senate-house—Tiberius’s will was disregarded; it had named his (259) other grandson 395, still a minor, as co-heir. All governing power and administration were given to him, much to the joy and satisfaction of the public. Within less than three months, it’s said that more than 160,000 victims were sacrificed in thanksgiving. When shortly thereafter he traveled to the nearest islands off Campania’s coast 396, vows for his safe return were made; everyone eagerly showed their concern for his well-being. And when he fell ill, people gathered around the Palatium all night; some publicly vowed by posted notices to enter the arena’s fights, or even to give their lives, for his recovery. Foreign nations, too, showed him remarkable respect. Even Artabanus, king of the Parthians, who had always shown hatred and contempt for Tiberius, now sought his friendship, conferred with his consular legate, and, crossing the Euphrates, paid the highest honors to the Roman eagles, standards, and images of the Caesars. 397

XV. Caligula himself encouraged this devotion by working all the arts of popularity. After a tearful speech in praise of Tiberius and a lavish burial, he hurried to Pandataria and the Pontian islands 398 to retrieve his mother and brother’s ashes; to show his deep respect, he made the journey in very stormy weather. He approached their remains with profound reverence, placing them in urns with his own hands. Bringing them in splendid procession to Ostia 399, with a flag flying on the stern of the galley, and then up the Tiber to Rome, they were carried at noon by leading men of the equestrian order, on two biers, to the mausoleum 400, (260). He arranged for annual public sacrifices in their honor; for his mother, he included Circensian games and had a chariot with her image in the procession 401. He renamed the month of September “Germanicus” in his father’s honor. By a single senate decree, he granted his grandmother Antonia every honor ever given to Empress Livia. He appointed his uncle Claudius, who until then was only of equestrian rank, as his colleague in the consulship. On the day his brother Tiberius 402 put on the toga of manhood, Caligula adopted him and gave him the title “Prince of the Youths.” For his sisters, he ordered this phrase to be added to official oaths: “Nor will I hold myself or my children more dear than Caius and his sisters:” 403 and required all measures proposed by the consuls in the senate to start with, “May what we do be fortunate and happy for Caius Caesar and his sisters.” With similar popularity, he recalled all those exiled or condemned, and granted a general amnesty against all charges and offenses in the past. To reassure those who had informed or testified against his mother and brothers, he brought the records of their trials into the forum and burned them there, loudly calling on the gods to witness that he had neither read nor handled them. When a report was offered concerning his own safety, he refused to accept it, saying, “I have done nothing to make anyone my enemy,” and added, “I have no ears for informers.”

XVI. The Spintriae, notorious panderers to unnatural lusts 404, he banished from the city, only deciding against throwing them (261) into the sea as he’d planned. The works of Titus Labienus, Cordus Cremutius, and Cassius Severus—previously suppressed by decree—he allowed to be republished and widely read, remarking “It’s to my own advantage that the deeds of former times be handed down to posterity.” He published government proceedings—a practice begun by Augustus but dropped by Tiberius 405. He granted full, independent jurisdiction to magistrates, with no appeal to himself. He held a rigorous yet moderate review of the Roman knights, publicly stripping of their horse those with disgraceful conduct, but sparing the names of those guilty only of minor faults during the roll-call. To reduce the burden on judges, he added a fifth class to the four existing ones. He also tried to restore the people’s traditional right to vote for magistrates 406. He paid, without dispute, all bequests left by Tiberius—even though his will had been invalidated—as well as those from Livia Augusta, which Tiberius had set aside. He abolished the one percent tax on all auctions in Italy. He compensated many for losses from fire; and when he restored kingdoms to any princes, he also gave them the back payment of taxes and revenues collected in the meantime; for example, in Antiochus of Comagene’s case, the confiscated sum would have reached a hundred million sesterces. Demonstrating his support for good conduct, he gave a freedwoman eighty thousand sesterces for not betraying her patron’s crime—even under severe torture. For these and similar acts of goodwill, a golden shield was voted to him; the priestly colleges would carry it annually, on a set day, into the Capitol, with the senate present and noble youths of both sexes singing his praises (262). It was also decreed that the day he ascended to the throne be called Palilia, as if the city had been newly founded. 407

XVII. He held the consulship four times: the first 408, from July 1 for two months; the second 409, from January 1 for thirty days; the third 410, until January 13; and the fourth, until the seventh of that same month. The last two he held back-to-back. He took the third consulship on his own authority at Lyons; not, as some thought, out of arrogance or disregard for rules, but because, being far away, he did not know his colleague had died right before the start of the new year. Twice he handed each citizen a bounty of three hundred sesterces, and twice gave lavish banquets to the senate and equestrian order, with their wives and children. On the latter occasion, he gave the men official robes and the women and children purple scarves. To ensure public joy continued forever, he added a day to the Saturnalia 412, which he called the Juvenalis [the juvenile feast].

XVIII. He put on gladiatorial games, either in the Taurus amphitheatre 413 or the Septa, mixing in the best boxers from Campania and Africa. He did not always preside personally, but sometimes deputed magistrates or friends to do so. He frequently entertained the public with different kinds of stage-plays (263) at various city locations, sometimes even at night, when the whole city was illuminated. He also distributed items for people to scramble for and gave each man a basket of bread and other food. On this occasion, he sent his own share to a Roman knight seated opposite him who was heartily enjoying it. To a senator doing the same, he sent an appointment as praetor-extraordinary. He also presented the people with many Circensian games from morning till night, featuring hunts of wild African beasts and the Trojan exhibition. Some games were unique: for example, the Circus was spread with vermilion and chrysolite; and only senators could drive in the chariot races. Sometimes he gave the start for the races suddenly, simply because, looking down from the Gelotiana 414 at the Circus and being asked by a few people nearby, he was pleased to do so.

XIX. He invented a new kind of spectacle, never before known. He built a bridge nearly three and a half miles long from Baiae to the mole of Puteoli 415, gathering ships from every direction, anchoring them in two lines, and covering them with earth to make a viaduct like the Appian Way 416. He crossed and recrossed this bridge for two days: first on horseback, splendidly dressed in an oak-leaf crown and gold cloak, armed with a battle-axe, Spanish shield, and sword; the next day as a charioteer, in a chariot drawn by two fine horses, with a young boy named Darius (a Parthian hostage), a cohort of praetorian guards, and (264) friends riding in Gallic carts 417. Many think this imitated Xerxes, who famously bridged the Hellespont—which is narrower than the span between Baiae and Puteoli. Others say he wanted to terrify Germany and Britain, lands he was planning to invade, with news of this feat. But as a boy, I heard my grandfather say 418 that, according to some close friends, the true reason was that when Tiberius was hesitating over a successor, the astrologer Thrasyllus told him, “Caius will be emperor no more than he will ride on horseback across the bay of Baiae.”

XX. He held public games in Sicily, athletic contests at Syracuse, and Attic festivals at Lyons in Gaul, together with competitions in Greek and Roman oratory; it is reported that those who lost had to reward the winners and write speeches in their praise, but those who did the worst were forced to erase their compositions with a sponge or their tongue—or else be beaten with rods or thrown into the nearest river.

XXI. He finished works left incomplete by Tiberius: the temple of Augustus and the theatre (265) of Pompey 419. He also began building an aqueduct from near Tibur 420 and an amphitheater near the Septa 421. One was finished by his successor Claudius, the other left unfinished. He repaired Syracuse’s ancient, crumbling walls and temples, and planned to rebuild the palace of Polycrates at Samos, to complete the temple of Apollo at Miletus, and to build a town in the Alps. Above all, he planned to cut through the isthmus in Achaia 422, even sending a senior centurion to survey the project.

XXII. Up to this point, we have spoken of him as a ruler. What comes next characterizes him more as a monster than as a man. He assumed several lofty titles: “The Dutiful,” “The (266) Pious,” “The Child of the Camp, Father of the Armies,” and “The Greatest and Best Caesar.” Overhearing some visiting kings at supper boasting about their noble lineage, he exclaimed,

Eis koiranos eto, eis basileus.  
Let there be but one ruler, one king.

He wanted to be seen as a monarch and was inclined to adopt the diadem and change the government from imperial to royal. But when told he surpassed all kings and princes in grandeur, he began to claim divine status. He ordered that all famous statues of the gods—especially prized for their beauty or reverence, including Jupiter Olympius—be brought from Greece so he could remove their heads and replace them with his own likeness. Extending part of the Palatium as far as the Forum and converting the temple of Castor and Pollux into a kind of entrance to his home, he often stood between the twin gods, appearing to be worshipped by all visitors. Some greeted him as Jupiter Latialis. He established a temple and special priests, with select sacrifices, dedicated to his own divinity. In his temple stood a golden statue of himself, dressed daily in the same outfit he wore. The wealthiest citizens vied for and purchased the honor of serving as his priests. The sacrifices included flamingos, peacocks, bustards, guinea-fowl, turkey and pheasant hens, each on their respective days. On full-moon nights, he habitually invited the moon goddess to join him in his bed. By day, he conversed privately with Jupiter Capitolinus: now whispering, now listening, sometimes speaking aloud in angry tones. He was even heard to threaten the god:

Hae em’ anaeir’, hae ego se; 423  
Raise me up, or I’ll—

\(267\) At last, persuaded by the god’s pleas (or so he claimed), he built a bridge joining the Palatium to the Capitol over the temple of Augustus. Later, to be even closer, he laid the foundations of a new palace right in the Capitol’s courtyard.

XXIII. He did not want to be known as Agrippa’s grandson, due to the humble nature of his birth, and was offended if anyone, in prose or verse, called him one of the Caesars. He claimed his mother was the result of an incestuous affair between Augustus and his daughter Julia. Not content with this insult to Augustus’ memory, he forbade celebrations of his victories at Actium and off Sicily, arguing these had brought disaster to Rome. He called his grandmother Livia Augusta “Ulysses in a woman’s dress,” and, indecently, criticized her in a letter to the senate as coming from low birth and as the granddaughter of a municipal magistrate of Fondi—though records show Aufidius Lurco held high office at Rome. When his grandmother Antonia asked for a private conversation, he refused unless Macro, the praetorian prefect, was present. Such insults and mistreatment caused her death; but some say he poisoned her as well. He paid no respect to her memory, watching her body burn from his private quarters. His brother Tiberius, not expecting harm, was abruptly killed on his orders by a military tribune. He forced his father-in-law Silanus to commit suicide by cutting his throat with a razor, using as a pretext that Silanus had stayed behind during a storm at sea, supposedly intending to seize Rome if Caligula perished—though Silanus in fact just feared seasickness. As for Tiberius, Caligula claimed he had taken an antidote in fear of poisoning; in reality, it was medicine for a chronic cough. (268) As for Claudius, his successor, Caligula only kept him alive for a laughing-stock.

XXIV. He habitually committed incest with all his sisters; at banquets, before large gatherings, he would seat each sister in turn below him, while his wife reclined above. It’s believed he deflowered one sister, Drusilla, before coming of age, and was once caught with her by their grandmother Antonia, with whom they were raised. When Drusilla later married Cassius Longinus, a consular, Caligula took her away and kept her as his own wife. Stricken with illness, he named her his sole heir in his will. When she died, he ordered a period of public mourning, during which it was a capital crime to laugh, bathe, or dine with family. Overcome by grief, he left Rome at night, traveling through Campania to Syracuse, then returning abruptly, having neither shaved nor trimmed his hair. Afterwards, in all important matters—even before the people or soldiers—he would swear only “By the divinity of Drusilla.” He showed less affection for his other sisters, frequently prostituting them to his favorites. Thus he had no hesitation in accusing them in connection with Aemilius Lepidus, charging them with adultery and complicity in a plot against him. He even exposed their own handwriting about the affair, gathering it through debased means, and dedicated to Mars the Avenger the three swords prepared for his assassination, inscribed with their intended purpose.

XXV. Whether he acted with more disgrace in marrying, divorcing, or keeping his wives is hard to say. At the wedding of Caius Piso and Livia Orestilla, he had the bride brought to his own house, and soon divorced her, then exiled her two years later; as it was believed she had returned to Piso after her divorce. (269) Some say that, at the wedding-feast, he sent Piso a message: “Don’t be too affectionate with my wife” and immediately took her for himself. The next day, he proclaimed, “I have found a wife as Romulus and Augustus did.” 424 Lollia Paulina, married to a man of consular rank commanding an army, was summoned from the province and married on the strength of a mention that her grandmother had been very beautiful; but soon after, he parted with her, banning her from any future marriage. His greatest love was for Caesonia, neither young nor beautiful, and already mother of three daughters by another man, but of unrestrained promiscuity. He often showed her to the soldiers dressed in military garb, and rode with her at his side. He even exhibited her naked to his friends. Once she bore a child, he named her his wife, and on the same day declared himself both her husband and the father of her child. He named the child Julia Drusilla and, carrying her around the temples of all the goddesses, laid her on Minerva’s lap, entrusting her upbringing to the goddess. He considered her his child solely for her savage temperament, which even in infancy led her to scratch the faces and eyes of playmates.

XXVI. It would be both unnecessary and repulsive to detail his treatment of relatives and friends—such as Ptolemy, son of King Juba and his cousin (grandson of Mark Antony by Selene) 425, and especially Macro and Ennia 426, whose help brought him the empire; all of whom he rewarded for their services and kinship with violent deaths. Nor was he any gentler or more respectful toward the senate. Some who had held (270) the highest offices had to run beside his litter in the toga for miles, and serve him at supper, standing by his couch or at his feet with napkins. Others, after being secretly put to death, he still summoned as though they were alive, later claiming they had committed suicide. When the consuls failed to announce his birthday publicly, he removed them from office, leaving the state without consuls for three days. He had a quaestor, accused of plotting against him, stripped and beaten on the clothes he had spread under the soldiers’ feet for better footing. He treated the other orders with equal arrogance. Disturbed by the midnight noise of crowds taking seats at the circus when admission was free, he had them driven out with clubs. In the chaos, more than twenty Roman knights and the same number of matrons were crushed to death, among many others. At plays, to incite rivalry between people and knights, he distributed money-tickets early so the knights’ seats were filled by commoners. At gladiatorial games, if the sun was fierce, he ordered the awnings to be pulled back 427 and barred the exits, removing the usual refreshments and providing starved wild beasts, decrepit old gladiators, and respectable heads of households with minor disabilities to fight. Sometimes, by shutting the public granaries, he forced people to go hungry for a time.

XXVII. He revealed the savage brutality of his nature mainly through the following actions. When meat became expensive for feeding his wild beasts reserved for public shows, he ordered that criminals be given to them (271) to be devoured. While inspecting them, lined up in a row as he stood in the middle of the portico, without bothering to consider their cases, he ordered them to be dragged away, from “bald-pate to bald-pate.” 428 Of one person who had made a vow to fight as a gladiator for Caligula’s recovery, he demanded the vow’s fulfillment, and would not allow him to stop until he was victorious, despite repeated pleas. Another, who had vowed to give his life for the same cause but hesitated to make the sacrifice, was dressed as a sacrificial victim, adorned with garlands and fillets, and handed over to boys who drove him through the streets, making him call upon himself to fulfill his vow, until he was thrown headlong from the ramparts. After branding the faces of many people of honorable rank with hot irons, he sentenced them to work in the mines, repair highways, or fight wild beasts—or, after tying them by the neck and heels like animals bound for slaughter, he confined them in cages or sawed them in two. These punishments were not just for serious crimes, but even for making comments about his public games or for not having sworn by the emperor's Genius. He forced parents to witness the execution of their sons; when one claimed illness to avoid attending, he sent his personal litter. Another was invited to dinner immediately after seeing such a spectacle, and was coldly challenged to joke and be cheerful. He ordered the overseer of the spectacles and wild beasts to be whipped in chains for several days in his presence, and did not have him killed until the stench from his rotting brain became unbearable. He burned alive, in the center of the amphitheater, a playwright for a witty verse with a double meaning. A Roman knight, while being mauled by the wild beasts, cried out that he was innocent. Caligula had his tongue cut out and sent him back to the arena.

XXVIII. When he recalled a man from long exile and asked how he had spent his time, the man flattered him, saying, “I was always praying the gods for what has happened, that Tiberius might die, and you become emperor.” Concluding, therefore, that those he had banished were praying for his death as well, he sent orders to the islands (272) for them all to be put to death. Eager to have a senator literally torn apart, he arranged for men to accuse him of being a public enemy, attack him as he entered the senate-house, stab him with their pens, and deliver him to the crowd to be dismembered. He was not satisfied until he saw the man's limbs and entrails, after being dragged through the streets, piled up before him.

XXIX. He made his barbarity even worse by his outrageous language. “There is nothing in my character,” he said, “that I admire or approve as much as my adiatrepsia (inflexible rigor).” When his grandmother Antonia gave him advice, he brushed it aside, saying, “Remember, all things are lawful for me.” About to kill his brother whom he suspected of taking antidotes against poison, he said, “Here is an antidote against Caesar!” And when banishing his sisters, he threatened them, declaring he had not only islands at his disposal, but also swords. A man of praetorian rank repeatedly sought a leave of absence from Anticyra 430, where he had gone for his health; Caligula ordered him put to death, adding, “Bleeding is necessary for one who has taken so much hellebore to no benefit.” Every tenth day, it was his habit to sign the lists of prisoners marked for execution; he called this “clearing his accounts.” Having condemned several Gauls and Greeks at one time, he boasted, “I have conquered Gallograecia.” 431

XXX. He often prolonged his victims’ suffering by ordering mild and repeated blows; this was his constant command: (273) “Strike so that he may feel himself die.” Having executed the wrong person by mistake, he said, “He deserved it just as much.” He was fond of quoting the line from the tragedian,

Oderint dum metuant. 432  
I scorn their hatred, so long as they fear me.

He often denounced all the senators as clients of Sejanus and informers against his own mother and brothers, presenting memorials that he claimed to have burned, justifying the cruelty of Tiberius as necessary, since such a multitude of accusers could not be doubted 433. He continually reproached the entire equestrian order for dedicating themselves only to acting on stage or fighting as gladiators. Upset when the people cheered a faction at the Circus games in opposition to him, he exclaimed, “I wish the Roman people had but one neck!” 434 When Tetrinius, the highwayman, was accused, he declared his accusers were all Tetriniuses as well. Five Retiarii 435, in tunics, fighting as a group, surrendered without resistance to five opponents; being ordered to be killed, one picked up his lance again and killed all the victors. Caligula lamented this in a proclamation as a most brutal massacre, and cursed those who had witnessed it.

XXXI. He would sometimes complain loudly about the times, because they were not marked by any public (274) calamities; for, while Augustus’s reign was made memorable by the disaster of Varus 436, and Tiberius’s by the collapse of the theater at Fidenae 437, his own was likely to be forgotten due to unbroken prosperity. At times, he wished for the terrible slaughter of his troops, famine, plague, fires, or earthquake.

### XXXII.

Even during his entertainments—while gambling or feasting—his savage cruelty, both in speech and action, never left him. People were often tortured in his presence while he dined or drank. A soldier, skilled in beheading, would often decapitate prisoners brought in for the purpose. At Puteoli, during the dedication of the bridge he had built, as mentioned earlier[^438], he invited a crowd from the shore only to suddenly throw them into the sea, pushing down with poles and oars those who clung to the ships’ rudders to save themselves. In Rome, at a public banquet, when a slave stole silver sheets from the couches, Caligula ordered his hands cut off immediately and had him led around among the guests, the hands hanging from his neck with a placard explaining the offense. A gladiator who, while sparring with Caligula, fell at his feet in mock defeat, Caligula stabbed to death with a dagger, then ran around with a palm branch as if victorious in the games. When a victim was to be offered at the altar, Caligula, dressed in the garments of a Popae[^439], held the axe high for a while, and finally, instead of the animal, struck down an officer who was there to cut up the sacrifice. During a lavish dinner, he suddenly burst out laughing; when the consuls reclining next to him politely asked why, he answered, “Oh, nothing—only that, at a single nod from me, you could both have your throats cut.”

### XXXIII.

Among other jests, there was this: Standing by a statue of Jupiter, he asked Apelles, the tragedian, which of them was greater. When Apelles hesitated, Caligula flogged him severely, sometimes complimenting his voice as well-modulated even during his cries for mercy. Whenever he kissed the necks of his wife or mistress, he would say, “Such a beautiful neck can be cut whenever I please;” and at times, he threatened to torture his beloved Caesonia to find out why he loved her so much.

### XXXIV.

Toward men of all ages, his jealousy and malice were as great as his cruelty and pride. He demolished and scattered the statues of several distinguished men, which had been moved by Augustus from the Capitol’s courtyard to the Campus Martius for lack of space, so thoroughly they could not be put back together or re-inscribed. For the future, no statue could be erected without his approval. He considered suppressing Homer’s poems: “Why not?” he said, “Did not Plato banish him from his Republic?”[^440] He almost expelled Virgil and Livy—their busts and writings—from libraries, calling one “a man of no talent and very little learning” and the other “a verbose, sloppy historian.” He often said he wanted to abolish the profession of lawyers. “By Hercules,” he’d say, “I’ll make it so they can answer no legal question except by referring to me!”

### XXXV.

He stripped the noblest families in the city of their ancient symbols: the collar from Torquatus[^441]; the curly lock from Cincinnatus[^442]; and, from Cneius Pompey, the title “Great,” belonging to that old family. Ptolemy, mentioned earlier, whom he invited from his kingdom and received with honor, he put to death suddenly simply because, upon entering the theater at a public show, he drew all eyes with his splendid purple cloak. Whenever he encountered good-looking men with fine hair, he ordered the backs of their heads shaved to make them look ridiculous. One Esius Proculus, son of a senior centurion, renowned for height and stature and nicknamed the Colossus, he had dragged from the stands in the arena and forced to fight a lightly armed gladiator, then a heavily armed one. After this man bested both, Caligula had him bound, paraded in rags through the city (exposed to the women), and finally killed. No man was so lowly that Caligula did not envy his distinction. The Rex Nemorensis[^443] had held the priesthood many years; Caligula found him a stronger challenger. Porius, who raced chariots[^444], after winning an event freed a slave, and when the crowd’s applause was enthusiastic, Caligula leapt up in such fury (tripping on his toga and tumbling down the steps) that he cried, “These world-conquering people honor a gladiator for a trifle more than princes among the gods, or than my own majesty sitting here.”

### XXXVI.

He had no concern for chastity, either his own or anyone else’s. He was said to be inflamed with an unnatural passion both for Marcus Lepidus Mnester (a pantomime actor) and for certain hostages, engaging in mutual acts of shame. Valerius Catullus, a young man of consular family, announced in public that he had been exhausted in these acts with Caligula. Alongside incest with his sisters and his notorious affair with Pyrallis the prostitute, hardly any woman of distinction escaped his advances. He would have them and their husbands to dinner and, as they passed by his couch, inspect them closely, as if they were slaves for sale; if a woman looked away out of modesty, he would lift her face with his hand. Later, when the mood struck him, he would leave the room, send for whichever one he fancied, and soon after return with signs of recent intimacy. He would then praise or criticize her in public, describing her charms or faults in private. For some, he sent a divorce order in the names of their absent husbands and had it officially recorded.

### XXXVII.

In his extravagance, he outdid all previous prodigals; inventing new styles of baths, extravagant dishes and banquets, bathing in warm and cold precious ointments, drinking priceless pearls dissolved in vinegar, and serving guests bread and other foods made of gold; often declaring, “A man should either be a careful manager or an emperor.” He even scattered vast amounts of money among the people from the roof of the Julian Basilica[^445], for several days in a row. He built two ten-tiered ships, Liburnian-style, their poops blazing with jewels, with multi-colored sails. These ships featured lavish baths, galleries, halls, and many varieties of vines and fruit trees. He sailed these in daylight along the coast of Campania, feasting with entertainment and music. In building his palaces and villas, he always aimed to do the impossible, seeking to excel in ridiculous extravagance. He built piers in the deep and rough sea[^446], cut through hard rock, raised plains to the height of mountains with masses of earth, and leveled mountain tops—works all demanded at incredible speed, with any delay punished by death. In short, he spent enormous sums, swallowing up the entire wealth amassed by Tiberius Caesar, a total of 2,700 million sesterces, within less than a year.

### XXXVIII.

Having completely exhausted these funds and finding himself in need of money, he resorted to plundering the people through every imaginable method of false accusation, confiscation, and taxation. He declared that no one was entitled to the freedom of Rome, even if their ancestors had acquired it for themselves and their descendants, unless they were direct sons; claiming that none beyond that degree should be considered posterity. When the decrees of the Divine Julius and Augustus were presented to him, he merely remarked that he was sorry they were now obsolete and outdated. He also accused all those of making false returns who, after the census had been taken, had increased their property by any means whatsoever. He invalidated the wills of all who had served as centurions of the first rank, using these as evidence of their base ingratitude, if from the beginning of Tiberius’s reign they had not left either Tiberius or himself as their heir. He would also void the wills of anyone else if anyone merely claimed that they had intended, upon their death, to leave Caesar as their heir. With the public terrified by these actions, he was now often named joint-heir with friends, and even with children by parents unknown to him. Those who lived long after making such a will, he claimed, were only mocking him; so he sent many of them poisoned cakes. He would personally try such cases, setting beforehand the sum of money he wanted to raise during the session, and once he achieved it, he would leave the tribunal. Impatient of any delay, he once sentenced forty people with various charges in a single verdict; boasting to Caesonia upon her waking from her mid-day nap how much business he had handled while she slept. He auctioned off the leftover equipment used in public spectacles, driving the bidding and prices so high that some buyers were ruined and even resorted to suicide. There is a well-known story of Aponius Saturninus, who fell asleep on a bench during a sale; Caius told the auctioneer not to overlook the praetorian who nodded so often, and the salesman acted as if Saturninus's nods signified assent, knocking down thirteen gladiators to him at a sum of nine million sesterces[^447], all without Saturninus knowing what was happening.

### XXXIX.

He also sold in Gaul, at astronomical prices, all the clothes, furniture, slaves, and even freedmen belonging to his sisters, after their condemnation. He was so delighted with his profits that he sent for all the furniture from the old palace in Rome[^448], commandeering all hired carriages in the city for its transport—including the horses and mules used by bakers—so much so that bread shortages occurred in Rome, and many people lost lawsuits in progress because they could not appear in court on time due to the lack of transportation. During these sales, every form of fraud and trickery was used. Sometimes he scolded bidders for being stingy, asking, “Are you not ashamed to be richer than I am?” At other times, he pretended to be sorry that a prince’s possessions were ending up in the hands of private citizens. He discovered that a wealthy provincial had paid two hundred thousand sesterces to his chamberlains for a secret invitation to his table, and was quite pleased to find his company valued so highly. The next day, seeing the same man at the sale, he sent him a trinket, telling him he must pay two hundred thousand sesterces for it, adding, “That way, you shall dine with Caesar by your own invitation.”

### XL.

He imposed new and unheard-of taxes, first collected by publicans, but later—because their profits were huge—by centurions and tribunes of the praetorian guard; sparing no kind of property or person from some form of tax. There was a duty on all food brought into the city, and a tax of one-fortieth of the disputed sum on all lawsuits or trials, regardless of the court; parties convicted of settling lawsuits out of court were fined. He claimed an eighth from the daily wages of porters, and, from the income of prostitutes, what they got for one act. The law stipulated that all brothel-keepers or sellers of women must pay up, and even marriage was not exempt.

### XLI.

These taxes were imposed without the act by which they were levied ever being made publicly available, causing major grievances since the law was unknown. At last, after urgent public outcry, he published the law—but wrote it in tiny script and posted it in a remote corner, making it virtually impossible for anyone to copy. Leaving no source of profit untried, he set up brothels in the Palatium, filling them with cells suitably decorated for the high status of the place, where married women and freeborn youths were available to visitors. He also sent his nomenclators around the forums and courts inviting people of all ages, young and old, to patronize his brothel, and he even lent them money at interest; clerks would publicly record their names as contributors to the emperor’s revenue. Another source of money he considered worthwhile was gambling; he turned this, by means of deceit and perjury, into a significant moneymaker. One time, entrusting his game play to his partner, he stepped outside and, seeing two wealthy Roman knights passing by, ordered them seized and their estates confiscated. Returning in great good humor, he boasted that he’d never had a better throw in his life.

### XLII.

After his daughter was born, complaining of his poverty and the burdens placed on him both as emperor and as a father, he arranged a general collection for her support and dowry. He also announced publicly he would accept New Year’s gifts on the coming calends of January; and so he stood in the vestibule of his house, grabbing the offerings people of all ranks threw down before him by the handful or even lapful. Eventually, driven by an insatiable desire to touch money, he removed his slippers and walked repeatedly over heaps of gold coins spread out across the vast floor, and then lay down and rolled his entire body over them again and again.

### XLIII.

Only once in his life did he participate in military operations, and even then not by design, but during his trip to Mevania to see the grove and river of Clitumnus[^449]. Advised to replenish a Batavian bodyguard attending him, he resolved to make an expedition into Germany. He instantly gathered several legions and auxiliary forces from every quarter, making new levies with utmost severity. He collected stores and supplies on a scale greater than ever before for such an expedition, and set out marching—sometimes so rapidly that the praetorian cohorts, breaking with tradition, had to strap their standards to horses or mules to keep up; at other times, he traveled so slowly and luxuriously that he was carried in a litter borne by eight men, making local townspeople sweep and water the roads to keep down dust.

### XLIV.

When he arrived at camp, wishing to appear a strict general and disciplinarian, he dismissed the lieutenants who arrived late with auxiliaries from various regions. Reviewing the army, he deprived most first-rank centurions—who had already served their legal time—of their commands, even those whose terms would expire in just a few days, blaming their age and infirmity; railing against the avarice of the remainder, he reduced their discharge bounty to six thousand sesterces. Though the only real submission he received was from Adminius, son of Cunobeline, a British king who, banished by his father, joined him with a small force[^450], he nonetheless sent extravagant dispatches to Rome as if the entire island had surrendered. He ordered the bearers to drive straight through the forum and to the senate-house with his letters, and not to deliver them except to the consuls, in the temple of Mars, and in front of a full senate session.

### XLV.

Soon after this, with no real enemy in sight, he ordered a few Germans from his guard to cross and hide on the far side of the Rhine, with instructions for someone to report to him after dinner that an enemy force was advancing. Once this was done, he dashed into a nearby forest with his friends and some praetorian knights, where they broke branches to make trophies, then returned by torchlight, mocking those who hadn’t joined him for their cowardice; while rewarding his companions with specially designed crowns studded with representations of the sun, moon, and stars, which he named Exploratoriae. In another manufactured episode, he ordered some hostages to be taken from the school and sent away in secret; upon hearing of this, he jumped up from table, chased after them with cavalry as if they had escaped, and brought them back in chains—taking this pretend military escapade to ridiculous lengths. Upon sitting down to eat again, he was told the troops had returned, so he commanded they sit right there in their armor, encouraging them with the famous line from Virgil:

> Durate, et vosmet rebus servate secundis.—Aen. 1.  
> Bear up, and save yourselves for better days.

Meanwhile, he sternly rebuked the senate and people of Rome, by proclamation, “for indulging themselves with the circus and theatre, and enjoying their country estates while their emperor was fighting and risking his life in the greatest dangers.”

### XLVI.

Finally, as if determined to begin real warfare, he drew up his army on the ocean shore with ballistae and other engines of war; and while no one could guess his intentions, he suddenly ordered his men to collect sea shells and fill their helmets and the folds of their clothes with them, calling these “the spoils of the ocean due to the Capitol and the Palatium.” As a monument to his “victory,” he erected a tall tower, upon which, as at Pharos[^451], he had lights burned at night as beacons for ships at sea. Then, promising the soldiers a donative of a hundred denarii[^452] each, and as if he had surpassed all previous acts of generosity, he declared, “Go your ways, and be merry: go, you are rich.”

### XLVII.

While preparing for his triumph, in addition to the prisoners and deserters from the barbarian armies, he selected the tallest men from all Gaul, declaring them the most suitable to enhance his triumph, along with some of the tribal leaders, and kept them to appear in the procession. He required them not only to dye their hair yellow and let it grow long, but also to learn the German language and take on popular German names. He also ordered that the galleys in which he had sailed into the ocean be transported to Rome, much of the way overland, and wrote to his city officials to “make proper preparations for a triumph before my arrival, spending as little as possible; but let it be on a scale never seen before, since you have full authority over everyone’s property.”

### XLVIII.

Before leaving the province, he planned an act of shocking cruelty—he intended to massacre the legions that had mutinied after Augustus’s death, for seizing and forcefully detaining his father Germanicus, their commander, and himself, then just an infant, in their camp. Although he was eventually persuaded not to carry out this reckless act, urgent pleas and arguments could not stop him from insisting on the decimation of these legions. Accordingly, he ordered them to assemble without weapons, not even their swords, and surrounded them with armed cavalry. But when he noticed that many, suspecting a plot, were leaving to seek arms for self-defense, he left the assembly as quickly as he could and immediately made his way to Rome—now directing all his anger at the senate, whom he publicly threatened, to draw attention away from the scandal stirred up by his disgraceful behavior. Among other excuses, he claimed he was being cheated out of a triumph that he justly deserved—though he had just forbidden, under penalty of death, any honors to be decreed to him.

### XLIX.

On his march he was met by deputies from the senatorial order, urging him to hasten his return. He replied, “I will come, I will come—and this will come with me,” striking the hilt of his sword as he spoke. He also issued this proclamation: “I am coming, but only for those who wish for me—the equestrian order and the people. I will no longer consider the senate as either my fellow-citizens or subjects.” He forbade any senators to meet him; and whether abandoning or simply postponing his triumph, he entered the city in ovation on his birthday. Within four months after this, he was killed, after having committed enormous crimes and while he was planning, if possible, even greater ones. He had considered moving to Antium, and later to Alexandria, but only after eliminating the flower of the equestrian and senatorial orders. This is proven by two books found in his cabinet labeled with different titles—one called “the sword,” the other “the dagger.” Both contained secret marks and the names of those doomed to die. There was also a large chest filled with various poisons; when Claudius ordered them thrown into the sea, it's said the waters were so contaminated that the fish were poisoned and washed up dead on the nearby shores.

[^438]: See previous mention of the bridge at Puteoli.  
[^439]: The Popae was the priestly garb.  
[^440]: Plato had excluded Homer from his ideal state.  
[^441]: The Torquatus family was distinguished by its collar.  
[^442]: The traditional curls of Cincinnatus were symbols of nobility.  
[^443]: The Rex Nemorensis was a priestly title from a sacred grove.  
[^444]: Porius was a charioteer of note.  
[^445]: Julian Basilica is a public building in Rome.  
[^446]: Moles are large sea walls or jetties constructed near shore.  
[^447]: An exorbitantly high price for gladiators.  
[^448]: The old palace refers to the imperial residence.  
[^449]: The Clitumnus is a river of significance in Italy.  
[^450]: Adminius was a client king.  
[^451]: Pharos, the ancient lighthouse of Alexandria.  
[^452]: Denarii were Roman silver coins.

L. He was tall, with a pale complexion, badly proportioned, his neck and legs very thin, his eyes and temples hollow, his eyebrows broad and drawn together, his hair thin, and the top of his head bald. The rest of his body was very hairy. Because of this, it was a capital crime for anyone to look down on him from above as he passed by, or even to mention a goat. His face, which was naturally ugly and frightening, he deliberately made more so, contorting it before a mirror into the most hideous expressions. He was unbalanced in both body and mind, suffering in childhood from epilepsy. When he reached adulthood, he could endure physical exertion fairly well, but occasionally suffered fits of weakness during which he was unable to do anything. He was aware of his mental disorder and sometimes talked of retiring to clear his mind[^453]. It is believed that his wife Caesonia gave him a love potion that drove him mad. What most disturbed him was his lack of sleep; he seldom got more than three or four hours a night, even then sleeping fitfully, haunted by bizarre dreams—at one point imagining that a figure representing the ocean spoke to him. Often exhausted by sleeplessness, he would sometimes sit up in bed, sometimes walk through the longest corridors in the house, and repeatedly call out and wait for the sunrise.

LI. The instability of his mind may, I think, explain two contradictory faults: excessive overconfidence and the most abject fear. While he pretended to scorn the gods, he would shut his eyes and wrap himself in his cloak at the slightest thunder or lightning; if the storm was severe, he would get up and hide under the bed. In Sicily, after mocking many of the island’s oddities, he fled in the night from Messini, terrified by the smoke and rumblings of Mount Aetna. And though he boasted of his bravery against the barbarians, when passing a narrow pass in Germany in his light carriage, heavily guarded by troops, someone remarked, “We would be in panic if an enemy appeared.” Immediately, he mounted his horse and rushed to the bridges; finding them blocked by camp-followers and baggage, he panicked so much that he had himself carried in men's hands over the heads of the crowd. Soon after, on hearing that the Germans were in revolt, he prepared to flee Rome and outfitted a fleet, comforting himself that if the enemy triumphed and took the Alps, as the Cimbri[^454] had, or the city, as the Senones[^455] had done before, he would still have the overseas provinces[^456]. This, I suppose, led his assassins to spread the story—meant to calm mutinous troops after his death—that he killed himself in a panic after hearing news of his army’s defeat.

LII. In his choice of clothing, shoes, and general attire, he wore nothing national, nothing proper for a Roman citizen, nor anything exclusively male or suited to mortals. He often went out in a short, heavy, richly embroidered coat encrusted with jewels, or a sleeved tunic with bracelets on his arms; sometimes draped entirely in silk, dressed like a woman; at other times in crepidae (Greek boots) or in the sandals worn by light-armed soldiers, or in the soft shoes worn by women, and often with a golden beard pinned to his chin, holding a thunderbolt, a trident, or a caduceus—emblems of the gods. Sometimes he even appeared dressed as Venus. He frequently wore the ornaments of a triumph even before his campaign, and sometimes donned the breastplate of Alexander the Great, taken from his coffin[^457].

LIII. As for the liberal arts, he was not well versed in literature but applied himself diligently to learning rhetoric; in delivery he was moderately refined and fluent, and when angered at the end of a speech, his words and sentences poured forth in abundance. In oratory, his gestures were intense, and his voice so loud that he could be heard at a great distance. When concluding a speech, he threatened to draw “the sword of his nightly studies,” holding a smooth, flowing style in contempt. He said Seneca, then much admired, “wrote only short essays,” and that “his language was just sand without lime.” He often replied in writing to the speeches of successful orators, and took pleasure in composing accusations or defenses of prominent people on trial in the senate—voting for or against the accused based on his own performance, and inviting the equestrian order by public notice to come and hear him.

LIV. He also enthusiastically pursued a variety of other arts, including fencing, chariot-driving, singing, and dancing. As a fencer, he practised with real weapons of war, and he raced chariots in arenas he had constructed in several locations. He was so obsessed with singing and dancing that he couldn’t restrain himself in the theatre, often singing along with the tragedians, and copying the actors’ gestures, either to applaud or to correct them. The nighttime performance he had planned for the day he was killed was believed to be nothing more than a chance to publicly make his stage debut during the freedom of the festival. He also sometimes danced at night. On one occasion, he summoned three consular men to the Palace at midnight[^458], who, alarmed by his message, were made to stand on the stage while he suddenly burst forth, accompanied by a loud chorus of flutes and castanets[^459], dressed in a mantle and long tunic to his heels; after dancing through a song, he left the stage. Yet, for all his skill in other activities, he never learned to swim.

LV. People he favored, he did so with excessive devotion. He used to kiss Mnester, the pantomime actor, openly in the theatre; if anyone made the slightest noise while he danced, he would have them dragged from their seat and flogged with his own hand. When a Roman knight made a disturbance, he sent him, by a centurion, an order to leave immediately for Ostia[^460] and deliver a letter to King Ptolemy in Mauretania. The letter simply read: “Do neither good nor harm to the bearer.” He made several gladiators captains of his German bodyguards. He deprived the gladiators called Mirmillones of some of their armor. When a certain Columbus won a fight but received a light wound, he ordered poison applied to the wound which he then called Columbinum. He even recorded the name in his own hand in a list of poisons. He was so fanatically fond of the charioteers who raced in green[^461] that he ate and slept for a time in the stables where their horses were kept. At a particular feast, he gave two million sesterces to a charioteer named Cythicus. The day before the Circus Games, he used to send his soldiers to order silence in the area so that the rest of his horse Incitatus[^462] would not be disturbed. For this favorite horse, he provided a marble stable, an ivory manger, purple blankets, a jeweled headstall, and even appointed him a house with servants and fine furniture—for entertaining guests invited in the horse’s name. It's even said he intended to make him consul.

LVI. During his wild and savage rule, many people plotted to kill him; but after one or two conspiracies were discovered, and others failed for lack of opportunity, two men finally devised a plan together and succeeded—helped by some of his most trusted freedmen and the commanders of the praetorian guards. These men, having been falsely accused of involvement in an earlier plot, realized they were now suspected and hated by him. He had even tried to turn the soldiers against them, drawing his sword and declaring, “I’ll kill myself if you think I deserve death!” From then on he was constantly accusing them to each other and setting them against one another. The conspirators agreed to attack him as he returned at noon from the Palatine games, and Cassius Chaerea, tribune of the praetorian guards, took on the task of striking the first blow. Chaerea, now an older man, had often been mocked by Caius for being effeminate. When Chaerea came for the watchword, Caius would give him “Priapus” or “Venus.” If Chaerea expressed thanks, Caius would offer his hand for a kiss while making an obscene gesture with his fingers.

LVII. Many omens foretold his coming death. The statue of Jupiter at Olympia, which he had ordered to be shipped to Rome, suddenly burst into peals of laughter so violent that the machinery broke down and the workers fled in terror. Right after this, a man named Cassius arrived, claiming that in a dream he had been told to sacrifice a bull to Jupiter. The Capitol at Capua was struck by lightning on the Ides of March, as was, in Rome, the apartment of the chief porter of the Palatine palace. Some interpreted the latter as a sign that the master of the house would be in danger from his own bodyguards; the former was seen as an omen that someone of high rank would be killed, just as had happened previously on that day. When Sylla the astrologer was consulted about his horoscope, he assured him “that death would soon and inevitably befall him.” The Oracle of Fortune at Antium had also warned him of a “Cassius,” so he had ordered the execution of Cassius Longinus, then proconsul of Asia, unaware that Chaerea was also named Cassius. The night before his death, he dreamed that he was standing in heaven by Jupiter’s throne, and that Jupiter pushed him with his right foot's big toe, knocking him down to earth. That very day, several events were considered omens: while he was performing a sacrifice, blood from a flamingo splattered him, and the pantomime actor Mnester performed in a play that Neoptolemus had once acted at the games during which King Philip of Macedon was killed. In a piece called Laureolus, the lead actor ran out in a rush, fell, and vomited blood, while the lesser actors tried to outdo each other, making the whole stage run with blood. That night, a spectacle was planned in which the stories of the underworld would be performed by Egyptians and Ethiopians.

LVIII. On the 24th of January, about the seventh hour of the day, after being indecisive about getting up for dinner due to stomach discomfort from the previous day’s food, he eventually came out at his friends’ suggestion. In the vaulted corridor where he usually passed, some noble boys brought from Asia to perform on stage were waiting for him in a private passage. He stopped to see and talk with them, and if the leader had not said he was cold, Caius would have stayed to make them perform immediately. There are two versions of what happened next. Some say that as he was speaking to the boys, Chaerea came up behind him and struck him hard on the neck with his sword, shouting first, “Take this!” Then Cornelius Sabinus, another conspirator and tribune, stabbed him in the chest. Others report that, with the crowd held back by centurions who were in on the plot, Sabinus came for the customary password, and Caius gave “Jupiter;” then Chaerea cried, “Be it so!” and as Caius looked around, Chaerea slashed one of his jaws. While he lay on the ground crying out that he was still alive, the others finished him off with thirty wounds. Their agreed signal was, “Strike again.” Some stabbed him in his private parts. At the first commotion, the litter bearers hurried in with their poles to help, followed by his German bodyguards, who killed some of the assassins and also some senators who had no part in the plot.

LIX. He lived twenty-nine years and ruled for three years, ten months, and eight days. His body was secretly carried to the Lamian Gardens, where it was half-burnt on a quickly assembled pyre and then covered with a bit of earth. Later, his sisters returned from exile and had the remains cremated and buried. Before this, it’s well known that the garden keepers were badly disturbed by apparitions, and that not a night passed without some alarming event in the house where he was killed, until it finally burned down. His wife Caesonia was killed with him, stabbed by a centurion, and his daughter was killed by having her head dashed against a wall.

LX. The misery of these times is easy to judge by the following account. When news of his death broke, people didn’t at first believe it. They suspected that he had spread false reports of his own death to see how people felt about him. The conspirators hadn’t even agreed on a successor. The senators were so determined to restore the nation's liberty that they called the first meeting not in the usual venue—named after Julius Caesar—but in the Capitol. Some even proposed abolishing the Caesars’ memory and tearing down their temples. It was noted that every Caesar with the praenomen Caius had died by the sword, starting with Caius Caesar killed during the time of Cinna.

* * * * * *

Regrettably, a major gap in the Annals of Tacitus at this period means we have no information from that historian about the reign of Caligula. From what he mentions near the end of the previous chapter, it’s clear that Caligula was quick to seize power after the death of Tiberius—whom, though he matched in vice, he did not match in cunning. Among the people, memories of Germanicus’s virtues inspired loyalty to his family, possibly increased by its misfortunes; they longed to see the father’s popularity revived in the son. However, since Caligula’s immoral character was already known—and may even have encouraged Tiberius to arrange his succession so it would make his own memory look better—it’s surprising there was no attempt at this moment to throw off the tyranny that had been unbearable under the last reign and restore the ancient freedom of the Republic. Since the start of imperial rule, no time was as ripe for a counter-revolution as this. There was now no Livia to sway the senate and people about the government, nor any other member of Germanicus’s family to advance Caligula’s interests. Caligula himself was only twenty-five, completely inexperienced in public matters, had done nothing for his country, and was widely known to disgrace his distinguished lineage. Yet, despite all this, Rome’s destiny was such that his accession brought joy to the soldiers who’d known him as a child, and to the people of Rome and the provinces, flattered with false hopes of a ruler who would revive the virtues of Germanicus.

It’s hard to say whether Caligula’s lack of sense or his moral corruption was more obvious. He seems to have shown, even as a child, an inherent depravity, probably made worse by poor education. He lost both parents young; and judging from Tiberius’s character and his motives for training his successor, it seems likely any attention paid to Caligula’s upbringing aimed more at spoiling than at improving his faculties and passions. If that really was the intent, it succeeded.

Yet, at first, his reign gave no sign of the craziness that followed. The sudden change in his behavior—the strange mix of stupidity and arrogance, vice and wild extravagance, as in rolling in heaps of gold, or his treatment of his horse Incitatus or his idea of making the horse consul—suggests that he may literally have lost his mind, perhaps due to a potion said to be given by his wife Caesonia. Love-potions, or philtres, were common in those days, believed to work by mysterious sympathy on the mind. In reality, though, their effects came from their actual physical properties. They were often made from satyrion, which Pliny says is an aphrodisiac, and were usually given by wives to husbands at bedtime, with their shared sleep thought necessary for effectiveness. This explains much: these philtres were simply stimulating medicines which, after violent but brief effects, weakened the body and could harm both physical and mental health. This appears to have been the case with Caligula himself, given his epilepsy and frequent complaints of insomnia.

During his short reign—just three years and ten months—this emperor spent money at a rate unheard of in history. During perfect peace, with no huge civil or military costs, he spent in one year, on top of the ordinary income of the empire, no less than £21,796,875, the sum left by Tiberius at his death. To fund his future waste, new and excessive taxes were levied on the people, even on necessities. All possible reasons for revolt existed among the Romans—yet so strong was fear of imperial power, even with such a weak and contemptible ruler, that no uprising occurred, nor any large conspiracy; he eventually fell simply to a few centurions of his own guard.

His reign was too brief to produce any new literature. But even if it had lasted much longer, the result would have been the same, since polite learning could never thrive under an emperor intent on destroying the works of Virgil and Livy. Thankfully, these, and many other precious works of antiquity, were too widely spread and carefully preserved to be lost due to the madness of such a capricious tyrant.

## TIBERIUS CLAUDIUS DRUSUS CAESAR. 465

### (295)

I. Livia, who married Augustus while pregnant, gave birth to Drusus, the father of Claudius Caesar, within three months of the wedding. Drusus was first named Decimus, later Nero. It was rumored that Augustus, her new husband, was his real father. The following verse quickly became well known:

Tois eutychousi kai primaena paidia.

Nine months for common births the fates decree; But, for the great, reduce the term to three.

Drusus, as quaestor and then praetor, led in the Rhaetian and German wars, and was the first Roman general to sail the Northern Ocean. He dug great trenches beyond the Rhine—the so-called “Drusus trenches,” still bearing his name. He won many battles and drove the enemy deep into the wilderness, stopping only after an apparition of a barbarian woman of superhuman size appeared and spoke to him in Latin, forbidding him to go further. For these acts he received the honours of an ovation and triumphal decorations. After his praetorship, he immediately became consul and, returning to Germany, died of illness in his summer camp, which was then called “The Unlucky Camp.” His body was carried to Rome by leading citizens from towns and colonies along the way, being received by officials from each city, and was buried in the Campus Martius. In his honour, the army erected a monument, around which the soldiers marched every year on a set day; and representatives from Gaul’s cities performed rites. The senate added further honours, ordering a marble triumphal arch with trophies on the Appian Way, and adding the surname Germanicus to him and his descendants. Drusus showed equal civil and military skill; besides his victories, he won the Spolia Opima and singled out German chiefs in battle, often engaging them hand-to-hand at great personal risk. He had often proclaimed, too, that he hoped someday to restore the old republic. For this reason, some writers claim Augustus grew jealous and recalled him—and, when he delayed, poisoned him. I mention this only so as not to omit any report, not because I find it credible, since Augustus loved him so much that he always named Drusus co-heir with his own sons, as he once declared in the senate; after Drusus’s death, he praised him in a speech to the people and prayed the gods “to make his Caesars like him, and to grant himself as noble a death as they gave Drusus.” Not only did he personally write verses for Drusus’s tomb, but also wrote his biography. Drusus had several children by the younger Antonia, but left behind only three: Germanicus, Livilla, and Claudius.

II. Claudius was born at Lyons in the consulship of Julius Antonius and Fabius Africanus, on the first of August—the very day when an altar was first dedicated there to Augustus. He was initially named Tiberius Claudius Drusus, but after his elder brother was adopted into the Julian family, took on the surname Germanicus. His father died when he was an infant, and throughout almost all his childhood and some years after maturity, he suffered from various chronic illnesses, leaving his mind and body so impaired that he was never considered fit for any public or private role, even after reaching adulthood. As a result, he remained under a tutor’s care for a long time (even after coming of age), a tutor whom he described in a memoir as “a barbarous wretch, formerly in charge of mule-drivers, who was chosen as my guardian purposely to punish me severely for the slightest thing.” Because of his frail body and mind, when he and his brother held gladiatorial games in honor of their father, he presided over them wearing a pallium—a new style—his head covered. When he came of age, they carried him to the Capitol in a litter at midnight, skipping the usual rites.

III. Still, from a young age, he worked hard at studying the liberal arts, and often published works in various fields. Yet, despite all his efforts, he was never able to gain a public office or stand any chance of future distinction. His mother Antonia often called him “a half-finished man, one nature began but never finished.” When she wanted to criticize someone’s dullness, she would say, “He’s even more foolish than my son Claudius!” His grandmother Augusta treated him with complete disdain, rarely speaking to him; and when she did offer advice, it was always a curt note or a word sent by a messenger. His sister Livilla, when told he was going to be made emperor, loudly expressed her outrage that Rome could face a fate so humiliating. To show how Augustus, his great-uncle, viewed him, I include some excerpts from Augustus’s letters.

IV. “I have discussed with Tiberius, as you asked, my dear Livia, what should be done about your grandson Tiberius at the Games of Mars. We both agree that, once for all, a decision must be reached. If he is truly sound and, so to speak, of right mind, we shouldn’t hesitate to advance him as we did his brother. But if he’s below par, weak in both body and mind, we mustn’t give the world cause to mock him or us. We’ll never have peace if we keep debating this whenever an event arises, instead of settling once and for all whether he is suited to public duty. For the specific matter you raised: I’m not opposed to his managing the priests’ feast during the Games of Mars, provided he allows his relative, young Silanus, to guide him so he doesn’t embarrass himself or us in front of the crowd. But I don’t approve of his watching the Circus Games from the Pulvinar, as he’d be on show in front of everyone. I don’t think he should visit the Alban Mount or be in Rome during the Latin festival either. If he were able to accompany his brother to the Mount, why not make him City Prefect? So, dear Livia, these are my thoughts. I advise settling this matter once for all, so we aren’t always in suspense. Please, share this with your kinswoman Antonia if you wish.”

In another letter, he writes as follows: “I shall invite the youth, Tiberius, every day during your absence, to supper, so that he does not have to dine alone with his friends Sulpicius and Athenodorus. I wish the poor fellow were more careful and attentive in choosing someone whose manners, bearing, and walk would be suitable for him to imitate:

Atuchei panu en tois spoudaiois lian.

In matters of importance, he falls far short.

Where his mind does not wander, he shows a noble spirit.”

In a third letter, he says, “Let me die, my dear Livia, if I am not astonished that your grandson Tiberius’s declamation should please me; for I cannot imagine how someone who speaks so poorly could be able to declaim so clearly and appropriately.” There can be no doubt that Augustus, after this, made up his mind on the matter, and accordingly left him with no greater honor than the position of Augural priest; listing him among the heirs of the third degree, who were only distantly related to his family, for just a sixth part of his estate, and a legacy of no more than eight hundred thousand sesterces.

V. When he requested some office in the state, Tiberius granted him only the honorary insignia of the consulship. When he pressed for a regular appointment, the emperor wrote back that “he sent him forty gold pieces for his expenses during the Saturnalia and Sigillaria festivals.” After this, giving up all hope of advancement, he gave himself over completely to a life of leisure; living very privately, sometimes in his gardens or a villa he had near the city, and at other times in Campania, where he spent his time among the lowest company. In this way, besides his earlier reputation for dullness, he also gained a reputation as a drunkard and gambler.

VI. Despite this way of life, he was still shown much respect both publicly and privately. The equestrian order chose him twice to act as their representative: first, to request from the consuls the honor of bearing Augustus’s body to Rome on their shoulders, and again to congratulate him upon the death of Sejanus. When he entered the theatre, they would stand up and remove their cloaks. The senate decreed that he should be added to the Augustal college of priests, whose members were chosen by lot; and soon after, when his house was destroyed by fire, that it be rebuilt at public expense, and that he should have the privilege of voting with those of consular rank. However, this decree was repealed; Tiberius insisted he be excused due to his incapacity, promising to cover the losses himself. But at his death, he named him among his third-tier heirs for a third of his estate; leaving him also a legacy of two million sesterces, and formally recommending him to the armies, the senate, and the people of Rome, along with his other relatives.

VII. Finally, Caius, his nephew, upon becoming emperor and seeking the people’s favor by every means, admitted Claudius to public office, allowing him to hold the consulship jointly with himself for two months. As he was entering the Forum with the fasces for the first time, an eagle flying overhead landed on his right shoulder. He was also assigned a second consulship, to begin after four years. He sometimes presided over public spectacles as Caius’s representative, always being greeted by the acclamations of the crowd, wishing him well, sometimes as the emperor’s uncle, sometimes as Germanicus’s brother.

VIII. Still, he was often slighted. If he arrived late to supper, he had to walk around the room for some time before finding a seat. When he indulged in sleeping after eating, as he often did, people would throw olive pits and dates at him. The comedians present would wake him, as if in jest, by hitting him with a cane or a whip. Sometimes they would put slippers on his hands as he snored, so that when he woke, he would rub his face with them.

IX. He was not only exposed to contempt, but sometimes to real danger—first, during his consulship. Having been negligent in providing and erecting the statues of Caius’s brothers, Nero and Drusus, he was nearly stripped of office; and later he was continually troubled by accusations, sometimes even from his own household. When the conspiracy of Lepidus and Gaetulicus was uncovered, he was sent with other deputies into Germany to congratulate the emperor and nearly lost his life; Caius was furious, complaining loudly that his uncle was sent to him like a boy who needed a guardian. Some even claim he was thrown into a river, in his travel clothes. After this, he always voted last among the consulars in the senate, being called upon after everyone else for the sake of humiliating him. He was also allowed to be prosecuted for forgery of a will, even though he had only been a witness. When he became obligated to pay eight million sesterces to enter a new priesthood, his financial situation became so desperate that to satisfy his bond to the treasury, he was forced to sell his entire estate by order of the prefects.

X. Having spent most of his life under such conditions, at last, by an extraordinary twist of fate, he became emperor at the age of fifty. Barred from seeing Caius by the conspirators, who scattered the crowd under the pretense that he wished to be alone, Claudius withdrew to a room called the Hermaeum. Frightened by reports of Caius’s assassination, he hid in a nearby balcony, concealed behind the curtains. A passing soldier spotted his feet and pulled him out to see who he was; recognizing him, the soldier, frightened, fell at his feet and saluted him as emperor. The soldier then led Claudius to his comrades, who were angry and uncertain what to do. They put him in a litter and, since the palace slaves had fled, the soldiers carried him themselves, bringing him to the camp, sad and trembling, with those who met them pitying Claudius as if he were being taken to his death. Once inside the ramparts, he spent the night with the guards, gradually recovering from his fright, but not hoping for the succession. The consuls, the senate, and the city forces had seized the Forum and Capitol, intent on defending the republic. Claudius, summoned by a tribune to advise the senate in this crisis, responded, “I am under constraint and cannot possibly come.” The next day, the senate was slow and divided in its proceedings, while the people outside clamored for a single ruler, naming Claudius. He let the soldiers assembled under arms swear allegiance to him, promising each man fifteen thousand sesterces—the first of the Caesars to purchase his soldiers' loyalty with money.

XI. After securing his position, his first act was to erase all memory of the previous two days, during which a revolution had been considered. He passed a law granting perpetual amnesty and pardon for everything said or done during that time; this he faithfully kept, except for executing a few tribunes and centurions involved in Caius’s assassination, both as an example and because he learned they had planned his own death as well. He then turned to honor his family. His most frequent and solemn oath was “By Augustus.” He persuaded the senate to grant divine honors to his grandmother Livia, with a chariot in the circus parade drawn by elephants, as Augustus had arranged; as well as public offerings to his parents' spirits. He established circus games in his father’s memory on his birthday each year, and for his mother, a chariot to be drawn in the circus, along with the title Augusta, which her mother had been denied. For his brother—whom he honored on all occasions—he arranged to have a Greek comedy performed at the public games in Naples and awarded the prize for it based on the judges’ verdicts. He also gave honorable mention to Mark Antony, proclaiming, “I especially insist on celebrating my father Drusus’s birthday as it is also that of my grandfather Antony.” He completed the marble arch near Pompey’s theatre that had been promised by the senate to Tiberius but never finished. Though he canceled all Caius’s acts, he forbade anyone from marking the day of Caius’s assassination—which was also the day of his own rise—as a festival.

XII. As for his own elevation, he was modest and restrained, refusing the title of emperor and excessive honors. He celebrated his daughter’s marriage and a grandson’s birthday privately at home. He recalled none of the banished except by decree of the senate, and requested permission for the prefect of the military tribunes and the Praetorian Guard to attend him in the senate house; he also asked the senate to grant his financial agents judicial authority in the provinces, and the consuls for the right to hold fairs on his private estate. He often assisted the magistrates in court as one of their advisors. At public spectacles, he would stand and greet them, both in words and gestures, together with the audience. When the tribunes approached him while he was on the tribunal, he would apologize, saying that due to the crowd he could not hear them unless they stood. This behavior quickly earned him so much public affection that when, on his way to Ostia, rumors spread in Rome that he had been ambushed and killed, the people did not stop cursing the soldiers as traitors and the senate as parricides until several people were brought to the speaker’s platform by the officials to assure them he was alive and not far off on his way home.

XIII. Nevertheless, conspiracies were formed against him, both by individuals and by factions, and eventually his government faced civil war. A lowly man was caught by his room at midnight with a dagger. Two equestrians were discovered in the streets, armed with a tuck and a hunting knife: one planned to attack him as he left the theatre, the other while he was offering sacrifice in the temple of Mars. Gallus Asinius and Statilius Corvinus, grandsons of orators Pollio and Messala, conspired with many of Claudius’s freedmen and slaves. Furius Camillus Scribonianus, his lieutenant in Dalmatia, rebelled but was subdued in five days; the legions he seduced from loyalty abandoning their plan after ominous signs. When ordered to march to their new emperor, they could not decorate their eagles or pull the standards from the ground—whether by accident or a sign from the gods.

XIV. In addition to his earlier consulship, he held the office four more times: the first two successively, each of the next ones after a four-year gap; the final time for six months, the others for two; and the third time as the replacement for a consul who died—a first among emperors. Whether in office or not, he regularly attended court for judicial proceedings, even on days his family or friends observed as special occasions or during public festivals. He did not always stick strictly to the law, but tempered its harshness or leniency as he believed just and fair. For example, when people lost cases by demanding more than was probably due, he allowed them a second chance. In cases of severe crime, he sometimes imposed harsher penalties than the law dictated, condemning offenders to be thrown to wild beasts.

XV. In judging cases, however, he was oddly inconsistent—sometimes careful and shrewd, sometimes rash and thoughtless, sometimes frivolous or out of touch. While revising the list of judges, he removed one man who hid his privilege of exemption for his children but answered to his name—judging him too eager. Another, called before him in his own lawsuit, protested it belonged to the regular judges, not the emperor; Claudius made him plead immediately, to show what kind of judge he would be in other people’s cases. When a woman refused to acknowledge her son, and there was no clear proof either way, Claudius forced her to tell the truth by ordering her to marry the young man. He inclined to rule for those who appeared in court against those who did not, without asking whether their absence was their own fault or unavoidable. On finding a man guilty of forgery and due to have his hand cut off, he demanded the executioner be fetched at once, with a Spanish sword and a block. In a dispute about a man accused of pretending to be a Roman citizen and whether he should appear dressed as a Roman or a Greek, Claudius had him switch costumes several times depending on the part he played in the case. It is said, and believed, that in one case his written decision was simply: “I rule for the party who has spoken the truth.” Because of this, he so lost the public’s respect that he was openly scorned. On one occasion, when a party explained that a witness summoned from the provinces could not appear—at first evading the reason, then after several questions replying, “He is dead,”—Claudius answered, “I think that’s a good enough excuse.” Another thanked him for allowing a defendant to plead by counsel, but added, “And yet that is only what is customary.” I have also heard that the advocates abused his patience so greatly that they would not only call him back as he was leaving the tribunal, but seize his coat or even his feet to make him stay. To show how believable this is: a little-known Greek litigant once called him “an old fool” in open court. A Roman knight, prosecuted on a trumped-up charge of lewdness with women, seeing prostitutes summoned as witnesses, angrily scolded Claudius for his foolishness and severity, and threw books and a stylus at him with such force as to cut his cheek.

XVI. He also took on the office of censor in 494, which had been discontinued since Paulus and Plancus held it together. But he administered this as unevenly and unpredictably as other offices. In his review of the knights, he let a profligate young man go unmarked simply because his father praised him—saying, “His father is his own best judge.” Another, notorious for seducing youths and adultery, he only told “to indulge his passions more moderately, or at least more discreetly,” adding, “Why must I know who your mistress is?” When, at friends’ requests, he removed a stain from a knight’s record, he said, “Let the blot, however, remain.” He expelled from both the list of judges and Roman citizenship a leading provincial of Greece, simply for not knowing Latin. No one was allowed to defend their record with an advocate; each man had to speak for himself as best he could. He disgraced many, including some unprepared for it, on a wholly new ground: for leaving Italy without his permission; and one for socializing with a king in his province, pointing out that Rabirius Posthumus had been prosecuted for treason simply for traveling to Alexandria with Ptolemy to collect a debt. When he tried to stigmatize others, he was more often embarrassed himself, as those accused of being bachelors, childless, or poor proved themselves married, with children, and well-off. One knight accused of stabbing himself opened his shirt to show no wound. There were some notable incidents in his censorship: He ordered a silver-plated, lavishly made cart up for sale at the Sigillaria festival to be bought and destroyed before his eyes. He issued twenty decrees in one day, including advice to secure wine casks well with pitch due to a bumper harvest, and that “the sap of the yew tree is the quickest cure for a viper bite.”

XVII. He undertook only one campaign, and it lasted only a short time. He felt the triumphal honors decreed him by the senate were below imperial dignity, so he resolved on a real triumph. He chose Britain—a land untouched since Julius Caesar—which at the time was hostile because Rome refused to return some deserters. He sailed from Ostia but twice nearly wrecked in storms called the Circius, off the Ligurian coast and the Stoechades Islands. He marched by land from Marseilles to Gessoriacum, then crossed to Britain, where a part of the island surrendered within days without bloodshed. He returned to Rome in less than six months and celebrated a grand triumph. For this, he allowed provincial governors and even some exiles to come to Rome to witness it. Among his trophies, he placed a naval crown on his house on the Palatine, signifying that he had crossed and, so to speak, conquered the Ocean, and had it displayed next to the civic crown already there. Messalina, his wife, followed his chariot in a covered litter. Those who had earned triumphal honors in the war rode behind him; the rest walked in striped robes. Crassus Frugi rode a richly decorated horse in a robe with palm leaves as he had won this honor a second time.

XVIII. He paid close attention to the care of the city and ensuring it was well supplied with food. When a major fire broke out in the Aemiliana and lasted for some time, he spent two nights in the Diribitorium, and when there were not enough soldiers or gladiators to fight it, he had the magistrates summon people from all city districts to help. Placing bags of money in front of him, he encouraged everyone, promising to reward them on the spot according to their efforts.

XIX. During a food shortage caused by several years of poor harvests, he was stopped in the Forum by a mob, who pelted him with pieces of bread and verbally abused him, so that he barely managed to escape into the palace by a back door. He therefore did everything possible to bring food to the city, even in winter. He offered merchants guaranteed profit, by compensating them for losses from storms at sea, and gave large privileges to those who built ships for the grain trade. To a Roman citizen, he granted exemption from the penalties of the Papia-Poppaean law; to one with only Latin rights, full Roman citizenship; and to women, the legal rights due to those with four children—laws that remain in force today.

XX. He completed some important public works, which, though not numerous, were very useful. The principal were an aqueduct, which had been begun by Caius; an emissary for the discharge of the waters of the Fucine lake 507, and the harbour of Ostia; although he knew that Augustus had refused to comply with the repeated application of the Marsians for one of these; and that the other had been several times intended by Julius Caesar, but as often abandoned on account of the difficulty of its execution. He brought to the city the cool and plentiful springs of the Claudian water, one of which is called Caeruleus, and the other Curtius and Albudinus, as likewise the river of the New Anio, in a stone canal; and distributed them into many magnificent reservoirs. The canal from the Fucine lake was undertaken as much for the sake of profit, as for the honour of the enterprise; for there were parties who offered to drain it at their own expense, on condition of their having a grant of the land laid dry. With great difficulty he completed a canal three miles in length, partly by cutting through, and partly by tunnelling, a mountain; thirty thousand men being constantly employed in the work for eleven years 508. He formed the harbour at Ostia, by carrying out circular piers on the right and on the left, with (312) a mole protecting, in deep water, the entrance of the port 509. To secure the foundation of this mole, he sunk the vessel in which the great obelisk 510 had been brought from Egypt 511; and built upon piles a very lofty tower, in imitation of the Pharos at Alexandria, on which lights were burnt to direct mariners in the night.

XXI. He often distributed largesses of corn and money among the people, and entertained them with a great variety of public magnificent spectacles, not only such as were usual, and in the accustomed places, but some of new invention, and others revived from ancient models, and exhibited in places where nothing of the kind had been ever before attempted. In the games which he presented at the dedication of Pompey’s theatre 512, which had been burnt down, and was rebuilt by him, he presided upon a tribunal erected for him in the orchestra; having first paid his devotions, in the temple above, and then coming down through the centre of the circle, while all the people kept their seats in profound silence 513. He likewise (313) exhibited the secular games 514, giving out that Augustus had anticipated the regular period; though he himself says in his history, “That they had been omitted before the age of Augustus, who had calculated the years with great exactness, and again brought them to their regular period.” 515 The crier was therefore ridiculed, when he invited people in the usual form, “to games which no person had ever before seen, nor ever would again;” when many were still living who had already seen them; and some of the performers who had formerly acted in them, were now again brought upon the stage. He likewise frequently celebrated the Circensian games in the Vatican 516, sometimes exhibiting a hunt of wild beasts, after every five courses. He embellished the Circus Maximus with marble barriers, and gilded goals, which before were of common stone 517 and wood, and assigned proper places for the senators, who were used to sit promiscuously with the other spectators. Besides the chariot-races, he exhibited there the Trojan game, and wild beasts from Africa, which were encountered by a troop of pretorian knights, with their tribunes, and even the prefect at the head of them; besides Thessalian horse, who drive fierce bulls round the circus, leap upon their backs when they have exhausted their fury, and drag them by the horns to the ground. He gave exhibitions of gladiators in several places, and of various kinds; one yearly on the anniversary of his accession in the pretorian camp 518, but without any hunting, or the usual apparatus; another in the Septa as usual; and in the same place, another out of the common way, and of a few days’ continuance only, which he called Sportula; because when he was going to present it, he informed the people by proclamation, “that he invited them to a late supper, got up in haste, and without ceremony.” Nor did he lend himself to any kind of public diversion with more freedom and hilarity; insomuch that he would hold out his left hand, and (314) joined by the common people, count upon his fingers aloud the gold pieces presented to those who came off conquerors. He would earnestly invite the company to be merry; sometimes calling them his “masters,” with a mixture of insipid, far-fetched jests. Thus, when the people called for Palumbus 519, he said, “He would give them one when he could catch it.” The following was well-intended, and well-timed; having, amidst great applause, spared a gladiator, on the intercession of his four sons, he sent a billet immediately round the theatre, to remind the people, “how much it behoved them to get children, since they had before them an example how useful they had been in procuring favour and security for a gladiator.” He likewise represented in the Campus Martius, the assault and sacking of a town, and the surrender of the British kings 520, presiding in his general’s cloak. Immediately before he drew off the waters from the Fucine lake, he exhibited upon it a naval fight. But the combatants on board the fleets crying out, “Health attend you, noble emperor! We, who are about to peril our lives, salute you; We replying, Health attend you too,” they all refused to fight, as if by that response he had meant to excuse them. Upon this, he hesitated for a time, whether he should not destroy them all with fire and sword. At last, leaping from his seat, and running along the shore of the lake with tottering steps, the result of his foul excesses, he, partly by fair words, and partly by threats, persuaded them to engage. This spectacle represented an engagement between the fleets of Sicily and Rhodes; consisting each of twelve ships of war, of three banks of oars. The signal for the encounter was given by a silver Triton, raised by machinery from the middle of the lake.

XXII. With regard to religious ceremonies, the administration of affairs both civil and military, and the condition of all orders of the people at home and abroad, some practices he corrected, others which had been laid aside he revived; and some regulations he introduced which were entirely new. In appointing new priests for the several colleges, he made no appointments without being sworn. When an earthquake (315) happened in the city, he never failed to summon the people together by the praetor, and appoint holidays for sacred rites. And upon the sight of any ominous bird in the City or Capitol, he issued an order for a supplication, the words of which, by virtue of his office of high priest, after an exhortation from the rostra, he recited in the presence of the people, who repeated them after him; all workmen and slaves being first ordered to withdraw.

XXIII. The courts of judicature, whose sittings had been formerly divided between the summer and winter months, he ordered, for the dispatch of business, to sit the whole year round. The jurisdiction in matters of trust, which used to be granted annually by special commission to certain magistrates, and in the city only, he made permanent, and extended to the provincial judges likewise. He altered a clause added by Tiberius to the Papia-Poppaean law 521, which inferred that men of sixty years of age were incapable of begetting children. He ordered that, out of the ordinary course of proceeding, orphans might have guardians appointed them by the consuls; and that those who were banished from any province by the chief magistrate, should be debarred from coming into the City, or any part of Italy. He inflicted on certain persons a new sort of banishment, by forbidding them to depart further than three miles from Rome. When any affair of importance came before the senate, he used to sit between the two consuls upon the seats of the tribunes. He reserved to himself the power of granting license to travel out of Italy, which before had belonged to the senate.

XXIV. He likewise granted the consular ornaments to his Ducenarian procurators. From those who declined the senatorian dignity, he took away the equestrian. Although he had in the beginning of his reign declared, that he would admit no man into the senate who was not the great-grandson of a Roman citizen, yet he gave the “broad hem” to the son of a freedman, on condition that he should be adopted by a Roman knight. Being afraid, however, of incurring censure by such an act, he informed the public, that his ancestor Appius Caecus, the censor, had elected the sons of freedmen into (316) the senate; for he was ignorant, it seems, that in the times of Appius, and a long while afterwards, persons manumitted were not called freedmen, but only their sons who were free-born. Instead of the expense which the college of quaestors was obliged to incur in paving the high-ways, he ordered them to give the people an exhibition of gladiators; and relieving them of the provinces of Ostia Gaul, he reinstated them in the charge of the treasury, which, since it was taken from them, had been managed by the praetors, or those who had formerly filled that office. He gave the triumphal ornaments to Silanus, who was betrothed to his daughter, though he was under age; and in other cases, he bestowed them on so many, and with so little reserve, that there is extant a letter unanimously addressed to him by all the legions, begging him “to grant his consular lieutenants the triumphal ornaments at the time of their appointment to commands, in order to prevent their seeking occasion to engage in unnecessary wars.” He decreed to Aulus Plautius the honour of an ovation 522, going to meet him at his entering the city, and walking with him in the procession to the Capitol, and back, in which he took the left side, giving him the post of honour. He allowed Gabinius Secundus, upon his conquest of the Chauci, a German tribe, to assume the cognomen of Chaucius. 523

XXV. His military organization of the equestrian order was this. After having the command of a cohort, they were promoted to a wing of auxiliary horse, and subsequently received the commission of tribune of a legion. He raised a body of militia, who were called Supernumeraries, who, though they were a sort of soldiers, and kept in reserve, yet received pay. He procured an act of the senate to prohibit all soldiers from attending senators at their houses, in the way of respect and compliment. He confiscated the estates of all freedmen who presumed to take upon themselves the equestrian rank. Such of them as were ungrateful to their patrons, and were complained of by them, he reduced to their former condition of (317) slavery; and declared to their advocates, that he would always give judgment against the freedmen, in any suit at law which the masters might happen to have with them. Some persons having exposed their sick slaves, in a languishing condition, on the island of Aesculapius 524, because of the tediousness of their cure; he declared all who were so exposed perfectly free, never more to return, if they should recover, to their former servitude; and that if any one chose to kill at once, rather than expose, a slave, he should be liable for murder. He published a proclamation, forbidding all travellers to pass through the towns of Italy any otherwise than on foot, or in a litter or chair 525. He quartered a cohort of soldiers at Puteoli, and another at Ostia, to be in readiness against any accidents from fire. He prohibited foreigners from adopting Roman names, especially those which belonged to families 526. Those who falsely pretended to the freedom of Rome, he beheaded on the Esquiline. He gave up to the senate the provinces of Achaia and Macedonia, which Tiberius had transferred to his own administration. He deprived the Lycians of their liberties, as a punishment for their fatal dissensions; but restored to the Rhodians their freedom, upon their repenting of their former misdemeanors. He exonerated for ever the people of Ilium from the payment of taxes, as being the founders of the Roman race; reciting upon the occasion a letter in Greek, (318) from the senate and people of Rome to king Seleucus 527, on which they promised him their friendship and alliance, provided that he would grant their kinsmen the Iliensians immunity from all burdens.

He banished from Rome all the Jews, who were continually making disturbances at the instigation of one Chrestus 528. He allowed the ambassadors of the Germans to sit at the public spectacles in the seats assigned to the senators, being induced to grant them favours by their frank and honourable conduct. For, having been seated in the rows of benches which were common to the people, on observing the Parthian and Armenian ambassadors sitting among the senators, they took upon themselves to cross over into the same seats, as being, they said, no way inferior to the others, in point either, of merit or rank. The religious rites of the Druids, solemnized with such horrid cruelties, which had only been forbidden the citizens of Rome during the reign of Augustus, he utterly abolished among the Gauls 529. On the other hand, he attempted (319) to transfer the Eleusinian mysteries from Attica to Rome 530. He likewise ordered the temple of Venus Erycina in Sicily, which was old and in a ruinous condition, to be repaired at the expense of the Roman people. He concluded treaties with foreign princes in the forum, with the sacrifice of a sow, and the form of words used by the heralds in former times. But in these and other things, and indeed the greater part of his administration, he was directed not so much by his own judgment, as by the influence of his wives and freedmen; for the most part acting in conformity to what their interests or fancies dictated.

XXVI. He was twice married at a very early age, first to Aemilia Lepida, the grand-daughter of Augustus, and afterwards to Livia Medullina, who had the cognomen of Camilla, and was descended from the old dictator Camillus. The former he divorced while still a virgin, because her parents had incurred the displeasure of Augustus; and he lost the latter by sickness on the day fixed for their nuptials. He next married Plautia Urgulanilla, whose father had enjoyed the honour of a triumph; and soon afterwards, Aelia Paetina, the daughter of a man of consular rank. But he divorced them both; Paetina, upon some trifling causes of disgust; and Urgulanilla, for scandalous lewdness, and the suspicion of murder. After them he took in marriage Valeria Messalina, the daughter of Barbatus Messala, his cousin. But finding that, besides her other shameful debaucheries, she had even gone so far as to marry in his own absence Caius Silius, the settlement of her dower being formally signed, in the presence of the augurs, he put her to death. When summoning his pretorians to his presence, he made to them this declaration: “As I have been so unhappy in my unions, I am resolved to continue in future unmarried; and if I should not, I give you leave to stab me.” He was, however, unable to persist in this resolution; for he began immediately to think of another wife; and even of taking back Paetina, whom he had formerly divorced: he thought also of Lollia Paulina, who had been married to Caius Caesar. But being ensnared by the arts of Agrippina, (320) the daughter of his brother Germanicus, who took advantage of the kisses and endearments which their near relationship admitted, to inflame his desires, he got some one to propose at the next meeting of the senate, that they should oblige the emperor to marry Agrippina, as a measure highly conducive to the public interest; and that in future liberty should be given for such marriages, which until that time had been considered incestuous. In less than twenty-four hours after this, he married her 531. No person was found, however, to follow the example, excepting one freedman, and a centurion of the first rank, at the solemnization of whose nuptials both he and Agrippina attended.

XXVII. He had children by three of his wives: by Urgulanilla, Drusus and Claudia; by Paetina, Antonia; and by Messalina, Octavia, and also a son, whom at first he called Germanicus, but afterwards Britannicus. He lost Drusus at Pompeii, when he was very young; he being choked with a pear, which in his play he tossed into the air, and caught in his mouth. Only a few days before, he had betrothed him to one of Sejanus’s daughters 532; and I am therefore surprised that some authors should say he lost his life by the treachery of Sejanus. Claudia, who was, in truth, the daughter of Boter his freedman, though she was born five months before his divorce, he ordered to be thrown naked at her mother’s door. He married Antonia to Cneius Pompey the Great 533, and afterwards to Faustus Sylla 534, both youths of very noble parentage; Octavia to his step-son Nero 535, after she had been contracted to Silanus. Britannicus was born upon the twentieth day of his reign, and in his second consulship. He often earnestly commended him to the soldiers, holding him in his arms before their ranks; and would likewise show him to the people in the theatre, setting him upon his lap, or holding him out whilst he was still very young; and was sure to receive their acclamations, and good wishes on his behalf. Of his (321) sons-in-law, he adopted Nero. He not only dismissed from his favour both Pompey and Silanus, but put them to death.

XXVIII. Amongst his freedmen, the greatest favourite was the eunuch Posides, whom, in his British triumph, he presented with the pointless spear, classing him among the military men. Next to him, if not equal, in favour was Felix 536, whom he not only preferred to commands both of cohorts and troops, but to the government of the province of Judaea; and he became, in consequence of his elevation, the husband of three queens 537. Another favourite was Harpocras, to whom he granted the privilege of being carried in a litter within the city, and of holding public spectacles for the entertainment of the people. In this class was likewise Polybius, who assisted him in his studies, and had often the honour of walking between the two consuls. But above all others, Narcissus, his secretary, and Pallas 538, the comptroller of his accounts, were in high favour with him. He not only allowed them to receive, by decree of the senate, immense presents, but also to be decorated with the quaestorian and praetorian ensigns of honour. So much did he indulge them in amassing wealth, and plundering the public, that, upon his complaining, once, of the lowness of his exchequer, some one said, with great reason, that “It would be full enough, if those two freedmen of his would but take him into partnership with them.”

XXIX. Being entirely governed by these freedmen, and, as I have already said, by his wives, he was a tool to others, rather than a prince. He distributed offices, or the command of armies, pardoned or punished, according as it suited their interests, (322) their passions, or their caprice; and for the most part, without knowing, or being sensible of what he did. Not to enter into minute details relative to the revocation of grants, the reversal of judicial decisions, obtaining his signature to fictitious appointments, or the bare-faced alteration of them after signing; he put to death Appius Silanus, the father of his son-in-law, and the two Julias, the daughters of Drusus and Germanicus, without any positive proof of the crimes with which they were charged, or so much as permitting them to make any defence. He also cut off Cneius Pompey, the husband of his eldest daughter; and Lucius Silanus, who was betrothed to the younger Pompey, was stabbed in the act of unnatural lewdness with a favourite paramour. Silanus was obliged to quit the office of praetor upon the fourth of the calends of January \[29th Dec.\], and to kill himself on new year’s day 539 following, the very same on which Claudius and Agrippina were married. He condemned to death five and thirty senators, and above three hundred Roman knights, with so little attention to what he did, that when a centurion brought him word of the execution of a man of consular rank, who was one of the number, and told him that he had executed his order, he declared, “he had ordered no such thing, but that he approved of it;” because his freedmen, it seems, had said, that the soldiers did nothing more than their duty, in dispatching the emperor’s enemies without waiting for a warrant. But it is beyond all belief, that he himself, at the marriage of Messalina with the adulterous Silius, should actually sign the writings relative to her dowry; induced, as it is pretended, by the design of diverting from himself and transferring upon another the danger which some omens seemed to threaten him.

XXX. Either standing or sitting, but especially when he lay asleep, he had a majestic and graceful appearance; for he was tall, but not slender. His grey looks became him well, and he had a full neck. But his knees were feeble, and failed him in walking, so that his gait was ungainly, both when he assumed state, and when he was taking diversion. He was outrageous in his laughter, and still more so in his wrath, for then he foamed at the mouth, and discharged from his nostrils. He also stammered in his speech, and had a tremulous motion (323) of the head at all times, but particularly when he was engaged in any business, however trifling.

XXXI. Though his health was very infirm during the former part of his life, yet, after he became emperor, he enjoyed a good state of health, except only that he was subject to a pain of the stomach. In a fit of this complaint, he said he had thoughts of killing himself.

XXXII. He gave entertainments as frequent as they were splendid, and generally when there was such ample room, that very often six hundred guests sat down together. At a feast he gave on the banks of the canal for draining the Fucine Lake, he narrowly escaped being drowned, the water at its discharge rushing out with such violence, that it overflowed the conduit. At supper he had always his own children, with those of several of the nobility, who, according to an ancient custom, sat at the feet of the couches. One of his guests having been suspected of purloining a golden cup, he invited him again the next day, but served him with a porcelain jug. It is said, too, that he intended to publish an edict, “allowing to all people the liberty of giving vent at table to any distension occasioned by flatulence,” upon hearing of a person whose modesty, when under restraint, had nearly cost him his life.

XXXIII. He was always ready to eat and drink at any time or in any place. One day, as he was hearing causes in the Forum of Augustus, he smelt the dinner which was preparing for the Salii 540, in the temple of Mars adjoining, whereupon he quitted (324) the tribunal, and went to partake of the feast with the priests.

He scarcely ever left the table until he had thoroughly crammed himself and drank to intoxication; and then he would immediately fall asleep, lying upon his back with his mouth open. While in this condition, a feather was put down his throat, to make him throw up the contents of his stomach. Upon composing himself to rest, his sleep was short, and he usually awoke before midnight; but he would sometimes sleep in the daytime, and that, even, when he was upon the tribunal; so that the advocates often found it difficult to wake him, though they raised their voices for that purpose. He set no bounds to his libidinous intercourse with women, but never betrayed any unnatural desires for the other sex. He was fond of gaming, and published a book upon the subject. He even used to play as he rode in his chariot, having the tables so fitted, that the game was not disturbed by the motion of the carriage.

XXXIV. His cruel and sanguinary disposition was exhibited upon great as well as trifling occasions. When any person was to be put to the torture, or criminal punished for parricide, he was impatient for the execution, and would have it performed in his own presence. When he was at Tibur, being desirous of seeing an example of the old way of putting malefactors to death, some were immediately bound to a stake for the purpose; but there being no executioner to be had at the place, he sent for one from Rome, and waited for his coming until night. In any exhibition of gladiators, presented either by himself or others, if any of the combatants chanced to fall, he ordered them to be butchered, especially the Retiarii, that he might see their faces in the agonies of death. Two gladiators happening to kill each other, he immediately ordered some little knives to be made of their swords for his own use. He took great pleasure in seeing men engage with wild beasts, and the combatants who appeared on the stage at noon. He would therefore come to the theatre by break of day, and at noon, dismissing the people to dinner, continued sitting himself; and besides those who were devoted to that sanguinary fate, he would match others with the beasts, upon slight or sudden occasions; as, for instance, the carpenters and their (326) assistants, and people of that sort, if a machine, or any piece of work in which they had been employed about the theatre did not answer the purpose for which it had been intended. To this desperate kind of encounter he forced one of his nomenclators, even encumbered as he was by wearing the toga.

XXXV. But the characteristics most predominant in him were fear and distrust. In the beginning of his reign, though he much affected a modest and humble appearance, as has been already observed, yet he durst not venture himself at an entertainment without being attended by a guard of spearmen, and made soldiers wait upon him at table instead of servants. He never visited a sick person, until the chamber had been first searched, and the bed and bedding thoroughly examined. At other times, all persons who came to pay their court to him were strictly searched by officers appointed for that purpose; nor was it until after a long time, and with much difficulty, that he was prevailed upon to excuse women, boys, and girls from such rude handling, or suffer their attendants or writing-masters to retain their cases for pens and styles. When Camillus formed his plot against him, not doubting but his timidity might be worked upon without a war, he wrote to him a scurrilous, petulant, and threatening letter, desiring him to resign the government, and betake himself to a life of privacy. Upon receiving this requisition, he had some thoughts of complying with it, and summoned together the principal men of the city, to consult with them on the subject.

XXXVI. Having heard some loose reports of conspiracies formed against him, he was so much alarmed, that he thought of immediately abdicating the government. And when, as I have before related, a man armed with a dagger was discovered near him while he was sacrificing, he instantly ordered the heralds to convoke the senate, and with tears and dismal exclamations, lamented that such was his condition, that he was safe no where; and for a long time afterwards he abstained from appearing in public. He smothered his ardent love for Messalina, not so much on account of her infamous conduct, as from apprehension of danger; believing that she aspired to share with Silius, her partner in adultery, the imperial dignity. (326) Upon this occasion he ran in a great fright, and a very shameful manner, to the camp, asking all the way he went, “if the empire were indeed safely his?”

XXXVII. No suspicion was too trifling, no person on whom it rested too contemptible, to throw him into a panic, and induce him to take precautions for his safety, and meditate revenge. A man engaged in a litigation before his tribunal, having saluted him, drew him aside, and told him he had dreamt that he saw him murdered; and shortly afterwards, when his adversary came to deliver his plea to the emperor, the plaintiff, pretending to have discovered the murderer, pointed to him as the man he had seen in his dream; whereupon, as if he had been taken in the act, he was hurried away to execution. We are informed, that Appius Silanus was got rid of in the same manner, by a contrivance betwixt Messalina and Narcissus, in which they had their several parts assigned them. Narcissus therefore burst into his lord’s chamber before daylight, apparently in great fright, and told him that he had dreamt that Appius Silanus had murdered him. The empress, upon this, affecting great surprise, declared she had the like dream for several nights successively. Presently afterwards, word was brought, as it had been agreed on, that Appius was come, he having, indeed, received orders the preceding day to be there at that time; and, as if the truth of the dream was sufficiently confirmed by his appearance at that juncture, he was immediately ordered to be prosecuted and put to death. The day following, Claudius related the whole affair to the senate, and acknowledged his great obligation to his freedmen for watching over him even in his sleep.

XXXVIII. Aware that he was prone to emotion and anger, he excused himself in both cases through a public proclamation, assuring the people that “his anger would be short-lived and harmless, and his resentment would never occur without good cause.” After harshly scolding the people of Ostia for failing to send boats to greet him when he entered the mouth of the Tiber—with words that might have inflamed public anger—he wrote to Rome saying that he had been treated as a mere private citizen. Yet, shortly afterward, he forgave them, and did so in a manner that seemed almost as if he was making amends, or even apologizing for having wronged them. Some people who approached him in public at inappropriate times he pushed away with his own hand. He also banished a former secretary to a quaestor and even a senator who had held the office of praetor, without granting them a hearing and although they were innocent. The former was punished simply for having been rude to him when he was a private citizen, and the latter because, during his time as aedile, he fined some of Claudius’s tenants for selling cooked food illegally and ordered that Claudius's steward, who interfered, be whipped. Because of this, Claudius also took away the aediles’ authority over food shops. He didn’t hesitate to speak openly about his own faults, even declaring in some short published speeches that he had only pretended to be weak-minded during Caligula’s reign, because otherwise he would never have survived or risen to his present position. However, he failed to convince people of this; soon after, a book appeared with the title *Moron anastasis* (“The Resurrection of Fools”), aiming to prove that “no one has ever successfully pretended to be a fool.”

XXXIX. Among other things, people found his detachment and indifference remarkable; in Greek, they called them *meteoria* and *ablepsia*. Shortly after Messalina's death, as he sat down at table, he asked, “Why isn’t the Empress here?” On several occasions, those he had condemned to death, he invited to dine and play games with him the very next day, and even sent men to scold them for being slow to arrive. While considering the incestuous marriage with Agrippina, he was constantly calling her “My daughter, my little one, raised on my lap.” And when he was about to adopt Nero—as though it were a minor thing to adopt a son-in-law when his own son was already grown—he repeatedly announced in public, “No one has ever been adopted into the Claudian family before.”

XL. He often spoke carelessly and without regard for context, to the point that many believed he never considered who he was, where he was, or with whom he was speaking. During a senate debate about butchers and wine sellers, he blurted out, “I ask you, who can live without a bit of meat?” mentioning the abundance of old taverns from which he used to get his wine. When supporting a certain candidate for the quaestorship, his justification was simply: “His father once gave me a much-needed drink of cold water when I was sick.” While bringing a woman to testify before the senate, he introduced her by saying, “This woman was my mother’s freedwoman and dresser, but she always recognized me as her master; and I say this because some in my family still do not.” When the people of Ostia petitioned him in open court, he lost his temper and said, “I’m under no obligation to you: if anyone has the freedom to act as he pleases, surely I do.” He frequently repeated certain expressions at all times and places: “What! do you take me for a Theogonius?” and in Greek, *lalei kai me thingane* (“Speak, but do not touch me”); along with many other casual remarks—utterly beneath the dignity not only of an emperor, but even of a private person—despite not lacking in eloquence or learning, since he had applied himself with great diligence to the liberal arts.

XLI. Encouraged by Titus Livius and aided by Sulpicius Flavus, he made an early attempt to write history; he assembled a large audience to hear and judge his work, but read it with great difficulty, often interrupting himself. After he began, a lot of laughter broke out when several benches collapsed under the weight of a very fat man; even after order was restored, he kept bursting into fits of laughter remembering the incident. When he became emperor, he wrote several things that he had read aloud to his friends by a reader. He began his history with the death of the dictator Caesar; but later switched to a later starting point, beginning instead after the civil wars, since he found he couldn’t write freely and truthfully about the earlier period, having been repeatedly criticized by his mother and grandmother. Of the earlier work only two books survive; of the later history he wrote forty-one. He also compiled the “History of his Own Life” in eight books—full of absurdities but written in a fair style—and “A Defence of Cicero against the Books of Asinius Gallus,” which showed considerable learning. Additionally, he invented three new letters and added them to the existing alphabet, considering them highly necessary. He published a book recommending their use while still a private citizen, and after becoming emperor easily introduced them into common usage; these letters still exist in various books, records, and inscriptions.

XLII. He devoted himself just as seriously to Greek literature, frequently expressing his love for the language and its supreme quality. When a visitor addressed him in both Greek and Latin, Claudius said, “Since you are skilled in both our languages.” Praising the province of Achaia to the senate, he explained, “I have a special affection for that province because of our shared studies.” In senate meetings he often gave lengthy replies to ambassadors in Greek; at court he liked quoting Homer. When he had taken revenge on an enemy or conspirator, he almost always gave the tribune on guard—who, by custom, would come for the password—nothing other than this line:

*Andr’ epamynastai, ote tis proteros chalepaenae.*
"'Tis time to strike when wrong demands the blow."

He also wrote some histories in Greek: twenty books on Etruscan affairs, and eight on Carthaginian matters. Because of these works, another museum was founded at Alexandria, named after him, alongside the existing one; and it was ordered that on certain days each year, his Etruscan history would be read in one museum, and his Carthaginian history in the other, as if in a school—read from beginning to end, each by a designated reader.

XLIII. Near the end of his life, he made it clear he regretted both his marriage to Agrippina and the adoption of Nero. When some of his freedmen praised him for having condemned, just the day before, a woman accused of adultery, he remarked, “It was my misfortune to have wives who were unfaithful, but they did not go unpunished.” Often when he encountered Britannicus, he would embrace him affectionately and express the wish “that he would grow quickly” and always keep him informed of his actions—using the Greek phrase, “*o trosas kai iasetai*—He who has wounded will also heal.” Wanting to grant him the manly toga while he was still underage and quite youthful, simply because he was tall enough, he added, “I do this, so the Roman people may finally have a real Caesar.”

XLIV. Soon after, he drew up his will and had all the magistrates sign as witnesses. But he was prevented from taking further steps by Agrippina, who, plagued by her guilty conscience and accusations from informers, feared exposure for many crimes. It is agreed he was killed by poison, but the exact location and perpetrator are uncertain. Some say it was given to him while feasting with the priests in the Capitol, administered by Halotus, his eunuch taster. Others claim it was administered by Agrippina herself at his own table, in mushrooms—one of his favorite dishes. The accounts of what followed also vary. Some report that he immediately became speechless, suffered pain throughout the night, and died at daybreak; others say he lapsed into a deep sleep, vomited his entire meal, and then was given a second dose—either in water-gruel, under the pretense of reviving him after exhaustion, or via an enema, supposedly to relieve his bowels.

XLV. His death was kept secret until arrangements for his successor were complete. Accordingly, public vows were made for his recovery, and comedians were summoned to entertain him, supposedly at his request. He died on the third day before the ides of October (13th October), during the consulship of Asinius Marcellus and Acilius Aviola, in his sixty-fourth year and his fourteenth year as emperor. His funeral was celebrated with the traditional imperial pomp, and he was added to the list of the gods—an honor later revoked by Nero, but restored by Vespasian.

XLVI. The main signs foretelling his death were: a comet’s appearance, lightning striking his father Drusus’s monument, and the deaths of many magistrates that year. Several details suggest he knew of his impending death and did not hide the fact. When nominating consuls, he appointed no one to serve past the month in which he died. At the last senate meeting he attended, he strongly encouraged his two sons to remain united, earnestly asking the senators to watch over them due to their youth. In the last case he heard from the tribunal, he repeatedly said in open court, “That he was now arrived at the last stage of mortal existence;” words which filled everyone present with dread.

* * * * * *

The violent death of Caligula gave the Romans another opportunity to reassert their country's freedom; but the conspirators had no coordinated plan after assassinating the tyrant, and the senate’s indecision—shown in a two-day debate during a sudden crisis—allowed the troops to take control of the government. By sheer accident, a man with no claims of personal merit, so dull-witted that he had been the prime target of jokes in the emperor’s household and even despised by his own family, was in a moment of military boldness chosen by the soldiers to rule Rome. Not yet holding the public treasury—which may have been empty—he could not immediately pay his supporters, so he promised each man a bonus of fifteen thousand sesterces (about one hundred and forty pounds sterling); we hear of no later complaints, so the promise was likely soon fulfilled. This event laid the groundwork for the military despotism that would trouble the Roman empire for many centuries to come.

Besides the soldiers’ intervention, it is clear that the people of Rome loudly favored a single ruler, specifically Claudius. This preference for monarchy stemmed from two reasons. The common people, because of their humble status, were generally least affected by the abuses of a tyrant. They had also always loved spectacles—stage plays, public shows, and food handouts—which the former emperor had frequently provided. Thus, they had more to expect and less to fear from a monarchy than any other group in Rome. As for their preference for Claudius, it can be explained partly by his lowly habits and lifestyle, which made him familiar to many; this also raised their hopes of gaining some benefit from his rise to power. Additionally, it’s likely that his freedmen—people of humble birth who later ruled him—actively promoted his claim to the throne. The senate’s two-day debate shows there was still strong support for restoring the old government. In the end, it’s no surprise that the senators, lacking all means to enforce national independence by force, gave in to the mob—since only with the people's support could they ever hope to recover public liberty. Furthermore, the senate’s political weakness since the fall of the republic had cost them both influence and authority. The brutal repression under the last two emperors also made them reluctant to risk opposing the next ruler for fear of severe retaliation. It must be said to Claudius’s credit, slightly excusing the way he came to power, that he began his reign with an act of amnesty for everything that happened after Caligula’s death.

Claudius was fifty when he took the throne. Though he had previously shown little ambition for public office—while indulging in much ostentation—he immediately seized on the idea of enjoying a triumph. With no war underway that might have let him earn military glory, he could satisfy his vanity only by launching a foreign invasion, contrary to the advice in Augustus’s will, and further enlarging the empire. Either Britain or a far-distant nation on the continent were considered; Britain was chosen as more convenient, lying near Gaul, and because the Britons had recently appealed to Rome for protection against exiles from their own country. At that time Britain was divided into several principalities, none united in defense, and the alarm from Julius Caesar’s invasion, more than eighty years earlier, had long since faded. So, a sudden attack there was sure to succeed. Accordingly, an army under the capable general Aulus Plautius invaded, defeating the natives in battles and advancing deep into the country. When it was time, Claudius set sail from Ostia at the mouth of the Tiber; but a fierce Mediterranean storm forced him to land at Marseilles, and from there he traveled to Boulogne in modern-day France, finally crossing to Britain. The exact landing point is unknown, but it seems to have been on the island’s southeast coast. There, he soon received the submission of several British states—the Cantii, Atrebates, Regni, and Trinobantes—and, after a six-month absence, returned to Rome to celebrate with the elaborate triumph his expedition had earned him.

In Britain’s interior, the native tribes, led by Caractacus, put up strong resistance. Roman progress stalled until Ostorius Scapula took command. He invaded the Silures’ territory—a people living on the Severn—defeated Caractacus in a great battle, captured him, and sent him to Rome. By then, the British leader’s fame had spread through Gaul and Italy, and crowds flocked to see him in Rome. His ceremonial entrance was conducted with great pomp: in front of the Roman camp, the praetorian guard stood in formation, the emperor and court faced the ranks, and behind them was the assembled public. The procession began with British trophies taken during the war, followed by the prince’s brothers, wife, and daughter in chains—despair and fear on their faces. But Caractacus himself, walking tall and fearless, approached the tribunal and addressed Claudius:

“If to my high birth and distinguished rank, I had added the virtue of moderation, Rome would have seen me as a friend rather than a captive; and you would have welcomed alliance with a prince of great ancestry who rules many nations. My defeat, to you, is glorious, and to me, humiliating. I had arms, men, horses, and great wealth; is it any wonder I was not eager to lose them? Because Rome strives for world dominion, must other men instantly submit? I resisted your armies for a long time—had I done otherwise, would you have the pride of conquest, or I the honor of brave resistance? Now I am in your power: if you choose revenge, my death will quickly be forgotten, and bring you no glory. Spare me, and I will stand forever as a monument to your clemency.”

On hearing this speech, Claudius granted him and the other royal captives their freedom. They all thanked him in the strongest terms, and, as soon as their chains were removed, walked over to salute Agrippina, who sat nearby, expressing their gratitude and admiration to her as well.

History records nothing more about Caractacus, but it is likely that he soon returned to his homeland, where his former courage and the dignity he showed in Rome would keep him renowned, even in the ruins of his fortunes.

The most notable figure of Claudius’s reign was Valeria Messalina, daughter of Valerius Messala Barbatus. She married Claudius and had a son and daughter by him. She combined cruelty in her pursuits with the most shameless incontinence. Not content to contain her excesses within the palace—where she acted scandalously—she publicly prostituted herself in brothels and on Rome’s streets. As if her conduct weren’t already disgraceful, she forced Gaius Silius, a consular man, to divorce his wife so she could have him for herself. Still unsatisfied, she then persuaded him to marry her; while Claudius was away in Ostia, they even celebrated a formal wedding. The ceremony was marked by a lavish supper for many guests; and so the affair would not be mistaken for an idle prank, the adulterous couple climbed onto the marriage bed before the shocked company. However lenient Claudius had been with her previous behavior, he could not overlook such a flagrant violation of both public decency and the law. Silius, having committed adultery perhaps unwillingly, was sentenced to death, and Messalina was summoned to answer for her actions. Overcome by fear and guilt, she could not bear to meet with her husband; instead, she retreated to the gardens of Lucullus to nurse her remorse and prepare pleas to soften his anger. In utter distress, she tried to end her life but lacked the courage. Her mother, Lepida—who had not spoken to her in years—was present, urging her to complete the act that alone could end her shame and misery. Again Messalina tried, again she faltered; then a tribune burst into the gardens, plunged his sword into her, and she died instantly. Thus perished a woman whose infamous lewdness echoed through the empire, and of whom a great satirist then living famously said, without exaggeration,

Et lassata viris, necdum satiata, recessit.—Juvenal, Sat. VI.

It has been already observed, that Claudius was entirely governed by his freedmen; a class of retainers which enjoyed a great share of favour and confidence with their patrons in those times. They had before been the slaves of their masters, and had obtained their freedom as a reward for their faithful and attentive services. Of the esteem in which they were often held, we meet with an instance in Tiro, the freedman of Cicero, to whom that illustrious Roman addresses several epistles, written in the most familiar and affectionate strain of friendship. As it was common for them to be taught the more useful parts of education in the families of their masters, they were usually well qualified for the management of domestic concerns, and might even be competent to the superior departments of the state, especially in those times when negotiations and treaties with foreign princes seldom or never occurred; and in arbitrary governments, where public affairs were directed more by the will of the sovereign or his ministers, than by refined suggestions of policy.

From the character generally given of Claudius before his elevation to the throne, we should not readily imagine that he was endowed with any taste for literary composition; yet he seems to have exclusively enjoyed this distinction during his own reign, in which learning was at a low ebb. Besides history, Suetonius informs us that he wrote a Defence of Cicero against the Charges of Asinius Gallus. This appears to be the only tribute of esteem or approbation paid to the character of Cicero, from the time of Livy the historian, to the extinction of the race of the Caesars. Asinius Gallus was the son of Asinius Pollio, the orator. Marrying Vipsania after she had been divorced by Tiberius, he incurred the displeasure of that emperor, and died of famine, either voluntarily, or by order of the tyrant. He wrote a comparison between his father and Cicero, in which, with more filial partiality than justice, he gave the preference to the former.

## NERO CLAUDIUS CAESAR.

### (337)

I. Two celebrated families, the Calvini and Aenobarbi, sprung from the race of the Domitii. The Aenobarbi derive both their extraction and their cognomen from one Lucius Domitius, of whom we have this tradition: —As he was returning out of the country to Rome, he was met by two young men of a most august appearance, who desired him to announce to the senate and people a victory, of which no certain intelligence had yet reached the city. To prove that they were more than mortals, they stroked his cheeks, and thus changed his hair, which was black, to a bright colour, resembling that of brass; which mark of distinction descended to his posterity, for they had generally red beards. This family had the honour of seven consulships 548, one triumph 549, and two censorships 550; and being admitted into the patrician order, they continued the use of the same cognomen, with no other praenomina 551 than those of Cneius and Lucius. These, however, they assumed with singular irregularity; three persons in succession sometimes adhering to one of them, and then they were changed alternately. For the first, second, and third of the Aenobarbi had the praenomen of Lucius, and again the three following, successively, that of Cneius, while those who came after were called, by turns, one, Lucius, and the other, Cneius. It appears to me proper to give a short account of several of the family, to show that Nero so far degenerated from the noble qualities of his ancestors, that he retained only their vices; as if those alone had been transmitted to him by his descent.

II. To begin, therefore, at a remote period, his great-grandfather’s grandfather, Cneius Domitius, when he was tribune of the people, being offended with the high priests for electing another than himself in the room of his father, obtained the (338) transfer of the right of election from the colleges of the priests to the people. In his consulship 552, having conquered the Allobroges and the Arverni 553, he made a progress through the province, mounted upon an elephant, with a body of soldiers attending him, in a sort of triumphal pomp. Of this person the orator Licinius Crassus said, “It was no wonder he had a brazen beard, who had a face of iron, and a heart of lead.” His son, during his praetorship 554, proposed that Cneius Caesar, upon the expiration of his consulship, should be called to account before the senate for his administration of that office, which was supposed to be contrary both to the omens and the laws. Afterwards, when he was consul himself 555, he tried to deprive Cneius of the command of the army, and having been, by intrigue and cabal, appointed his successor, he was made prisoner at Corsinium, in the beginning of the civil war. Being set at liberty, he went to Marseilles, which was then besieged; where having, by his presence, animated the people to hold out, he suddenly deserted them, and at last was slain in the battle of Pharsalia. He was a man of little constancy, and of a sullen temper. In despair of his fortunes, he had recourse to poison, but was so terrified at the thoughts of death, that, immediately repenting, he took a vomit to throw it up again, and gave freedom to his physician for having, with great prudence and wisdom, given him only a gentle dose of the poison. When Cneius Pompey was consulting with his friends in what manner he should conduct himself towards those who were neuter and took no part in the contest, he was the only one who proposed that they should be treated as enemies.

III. He left a son, who was, without doubt, the best of the family. By the Pedian law, he was condemned, although innocent, amongst others who were concerned in the death of Caesar 556. Upon this, he went over to Brutus and Cassius, his near relations; and, after their death, not only kept together the fleet, the command of which had been given him some time before, but even increased it. At last, when the party had everywhere been defeated, he voluntarily surrendered it to (339) Mark Antony; considering it as a piece of service for which the latter owed him no small obligations. Of all those who were condemned by the law above-mentioned, he was the only man who was restored to his country, and filled the highest offices. When the civil war again broke out, he was appointed lieutenant under the same Antony, and offered the chief command by those who were ashamed of Cleopatra; but not daring, on account of a sudden indisposition with which he was seized, either to accept or refuse it, he went over to Augustus 557, and died a few days after, not without an aspersion cast upon his memory. For Antony gave out, that he was induced to change sides by his impatience to be with his mistress, Servilia Nais. 558

IV. This Cneius had a son, named Domitius, who was afterwards well known as the nominal purchaser of the family property left by Augustus’s will 559; and no less famous in his youth for his dexterity in chariot-driving, than he was afterwards for the triumphal ornaments which he obtained in the German war. But he was a man of great arrogance, prodigality, and cruelty. When he was aedile, he obliged Lucius Plancus, the censor, to give him the way; and in his praetorship, and consulship, he made Roman knights and married women act on the stage. He gave hunts of wild beasts, both in the Circus and in all the wards of the city; as also a show of gladiators; but with such barbarity, that Augustus, after privately reprimanding him, to no purpose, was obliged to restrain him by a public edict.

V. By the elder Antonia he had Nero’s father, a man of execrable character in every part of his life. During his attendance upon Caius Caesar in the East, he killed a freedman of his own, for refusing to drink as much as he ordered him. Being dismissed for this from Caesar’s society, he did not mend his habits; for, in a village upon the Appian road, he suddenly whipped his horses, and drove his chariot, on purpose, (340) over a poor boy, crushing him to pieces. At Rome, he struck out the eye of a Roman knight in the Forum, only for some free language in a dispute between them. He was likewise so fraudulent, that he not only cheated some silversmiths 560 of the price of goods he had bought of them, but, during his praetorship, defrauded the owners of chariots in the Circensian games of the prizes due to them for their victory. His sister, jeering him for the complaints made by the leaders of the several parties, he agreed to sanction a law, “That, for the future, the prizes should be immediately paid.” A little before the death of Tiberius, he was prosecuted for treason, adulteries, and incest with his sister Lepida, but escaped in the timely change of affairs, and died of a dropsy, at Pyrgi 561; leaving behind him his son, Nero, whom he had by Agrippina, the daughter of Germanicus.

VI. Nero was born at Antium, nine months after the death of Tiberius 562, upon the eighteenth of the calends of January \[15th December\], just as the sun rose, so that its beams touched him before they could well reach the earth. While many fearful conjectures, in respect to his future fortune, were formed by different persons, from the circumstances of his nativity, a saying of his father, Domitius, was regarded as an ill presage, who told his friends who were congratulating him upon the occasion, “That nothing but what was detestable, and pernicious to the public, could ever be produced of him and Agrippina.” Another manifest prognostic of his future infelicity occurred upon his lustration day 563. For Caius Caesar being requested by his sister to give the child what name he thought proper—looking at his uncle, Claudius, who (341) afterwards, when emperor, adopted Nero, he gave his: and this not seriously, but only in jest; Agrippina treating it with contempt, because Claudius at that time was a mere laughing-stock at the palace. He lost his father when he was three years old, being left heir to a third part of his estate; of which he never got possession, the whole being seized by his co-heir, Caius. His mother being soon after banished, he lived with his aunt Lepida, in a very necessitous condition, under the care of two tutors, a dancing-master and a barber. After Claudius came to the empire, he not only recovered his father’s estate, but was enriched with the additional inheritance of that of his step-father, Crispus Passienus. Upon his mother’s recall from banishment, he was advanced to such favour, through Nero’s powerful interest with the emperor, that it was reported, assassins were employed by Messalina, Claudius’s wife, to strangle him, as Britannicus’s rival, whilst he was taking his noon-day repose. In addition to the story, it was said that they were frightened by a serpent, which crept from under his cushion, and ran away. The tale was occasioned by finding on his couch, near the pillow, the skin of a snake, which, by his mother’s order, he wore for some time upon his right arm, inclosed in a bracelet of gold. This amulet, at last, he laid aside, from aversion to her memory; but he sought for it again, in vain, in the time of his extremity.

VII. When he was yet a mere boy, before he arrived at the age of puberty, during the celebration of the Circensian games 564, he performed his part in the Trojan play with a degree of firmness which gained him great applause. In the eleventh year of his age, he was adopted by Claudius, and placed under the tuition of Annaeus Seneca 565, who had been made a senator. It is said, that Seneca dreamt the night after, that he was giving a lesson to Caius Caesar 566. Nero soon verified his dream, betraying the cruelty of his disposition in every way he could. For he attempted to persuade his father that his brother, Britannicus, was nothing but a changeling, because the latter had (342) saluted him, notwithstanding his adoption, by the name of Aenobarbus, as usual. When his aunt, Lepida, was brought to trial, he appeared in court as a witness against her, to gratify his mother, who persecuted the accused. On his introduction into the Forum, at the age of manhood, he gave a largess to the people and a donative to the soldiers: for the pretorian cohorts, he appointed a solemn procession under arms, and marched at the head of them with a shield in his hand; after which he went to return thanks to his father in the senate. Before Claudius, likewise, at the time he was consul, he made a speech for the Bolognese, in Latin, and for the Rhodians and people of Ilium, in Greek. He had the jurisdiction of praefect of the city, for the first time, during the Latin festival; during which the most celebrated advocates brought before him, not short and trifling causes, as is usual in that case, but trials of importance, notwithstanding they had instructions from Claudius himself to the contrary. Soon afterwards, he married Octavia, and exhibited the Circensian games, and hunting of wild beasts, in honour of Claudius.

VIII. He was seventeen years of age at the death of that prince 567, and as soon as that event was made public, he went out to the cohort on guard between the hours of six and seven; for the omens were so disastrous, that no earlier time of the day was judged proper. On the steps before the palace gate, he was unanimously saluted by the soldiers as their emperor, and then carried in a litter to the camp; thence, after making a short speech to the troops, into the senate-house, where he continued until the evening; of all the immense honours which were heaped upon him, refusing none but the title of FATHER OF HIS COUNTRY, on account of his youth,

IX. He began his reign with an ostentation of dutiful regard to the memory of Claudius, whom he buried with the utmost pomp and magnificence, pronouncing the funeral oration himself, and then had him enrolled amongst the gods. He paid likewise the highest honours to the memory of his father Domitius. He left the management of affairs, both public and private, to his mother. The word which he gave the first day of his reign to the tribune on guard, was, “The (343) Best of Mothers,” and afterwards he frequently appeared with her in the streets of Rome in her litter. He settled a colony at Antium, in which he placed the veteran soldiers belonging to the guards; and obliged several of the richest centurions of the first rank to transfer their residence to that place; where he likewise made a noble harbour at a prodigious expense. 568

X. To establish still further his character, he declared, “that he designed to govern according to the model of Augustus;” and omitted no opportunity of showing his generosity, clemency, and complaisance. The more burthensome taxes he either entirely took off, or diminished. The rewards appointed for informers by the Papian law, he reduced to a fourth part, and distributed to the people four hundred sesterces a man. To the noblest of the senators who were much reduced in their circumstances, he granted annual allowances, in some cases as much as five hundred thousand sesterces; and to the pretorian cohorts a monthly allowance of corn gratis. When called upon to subscribe the sentence, according to custom, of a criminal condemned to die, “I wish,” said he, “I had never learnt to read and write.” He continually saluted people of the several orders by name, without a prompter. When the senate returned him their thanks for his good government, he replied to them, “It will be time enough to do so when I shall have deserved it.” He admitted the common people to see him perform his exercises in the Campus Martius. He frequently declaimed in public, and recited verses of his own composing, not only at home, but in the theatre; so much to the joy of all the people, that public prayers were appointed to be put up to the gods upon that account; and the verses which had been publicly read, were, after being written in gold letters, consecrated to Jupiter Capitolinus.

\(344\) XI. He presented the people with a great number and variety of spectacles, as the Juvenal and Circensian games, stage-plays, and an exhibition of gladiators. In the Juvenal, he even admitted senators and aged matrons to perform parts. In the Circensian games, he assigned the equestrian order seats apart from the rest of the people, and had races performed by chariots drawn each by four camels. In the games which he instituted for the eternal duration of the empire, and therefore ordered to be called Maximi, many of the senatorian and equestrian order, of both sexes, performed. A distinguished Roman knight descended on the stage by a rope, mounted on an elephant. A Roman play, likewise, composed by Afranius, was brought upon the stage. It was entitled, “The Fire;” and in it the performers were allowed to carry off, and to keep to themselves, the furniture of the house, which, as the plot of the play required, was burnt down in the theatre. Every day during the solemnity, many thousand articles of all descriptions were thrown amongst the people to scramble for; such as fowls of different kinds, tickets for corn, clothes, gold, silver, gems, pearls, pictures, slaves, beasts of burden, wild beasts that had been tamed; at last, ships, lots of houses, and lands, were offered as prizes in a lottery.

XII. These games he beheld from the front of the proscenium. In the show of gladiators, which he exhibited in a wooden amphitheatre, built within a year in the district of the Campus Martius 569, he ordered that none should be slain, not even the condemned criminals employed in the combats. He secured four hundred senators, and six hundred Roman knights, amongst whom were some of unbroken fortunes and unblemished reputation, to act as gladiators. From the same orders, he engaged persons to encounter wild beasts, and for various other services in the theatre. He presented the public with the representation of a naval fight, upon sea-water, with huge fishes swimming in it; as also with the Pyrrhic dance, performed by certain youths, to each of whom, after the performance was over, he granted the freedom of Rome. During this diversion, a bull covered Pasiphae, concealed within a wooden statue of a cow, as many of the spectators believed. Icarus, upon his first attempt to fly, fell on the stage close to (345) the emperor’s pavilion, and bespattered him with blood. For he very seldom presided in the games, but used to view them reclining on a couch, at first through some narrow apertures, but afterwards with the Podium 570 quite open. He was the first who instituted 571, in imitation of the Greeks, a trial of skill in the three several exercises of music, wrestling, and horse-racing, to be performed at Rome every five years, and which he called Neronia. Upon the dedication of his bath 572 and gymnasium, he furnished the senate and the equestrian order with oil. He appointed as judges of the trial men of consular rank, chosen by lot, who sat with the praetors. At this time he went down into the orchestra amongst the senators, and received the crown for the best performance in Latin prose and verse, for which several persons of the greatest merit contended, but they unanimously yielded to him. The crown for the best performer on the harp, being likewise awarded to him by the judges, he devoutly saluted it, and ordered it to be carried to the statue of Augustus. In the gymnastic exercises, which he presented in the Septa, while they were preparing the great sacrifice of an ox, he shaved his beard for the first time 573, and putting it up in a casket of gold studded with pearls of great price, consecrated it to Jupiter Capitolinus. He invited the Vestal Virgins to see the (346) wrestlers perform, because, at Olympia, the priestesses of Ceres are allowed the privilege of witnessing that exhibition.

XIII. Amongst the spectacles presented by him, the solemn entrance of Tiridates 574 into the city deserves to be mentioned. This personage, who was king of Armenia, he invited to Rome by very liberal promises. But being prevented by unfavourable weather from showing him to the people upon the day fixed by proclamation, he took the first opportunity which occurred; several cohorts being drawn up under arms, about the temples in the forum, while he was seated on a curule chair on the rostra, in a triumphal dress, amidst the military standards and ensigns. Upon Tiridates advancing towards him, on a stage made shelving for the purpose, he permitted him to throw himself at his feet, but quickly raised him with his right hand, and kissed him. The emperor then, at the king’s request, took the turban from his head, and replaced it by a crown, whilst a person of pretorian rank proclaimed in Latin the words in which the prince addressed the emperor as a suppliant. After this ceremony, the king was conducted to the theatre, where, after renewing his obeisance, Nero seated him on his right hand. Being then greeted by universal acclamation with the title of Emperor, and sending his laurel crown to the Capitol, Nero shut the temple of the two-faced Janus, as though there now existed no war throughout the Roman empire.

XIV. He filled the consulship four times 575: the first for two months, the second and last for six, and the third for four; the two intermediate ones he held successively, but the others after an interval of some years between them.

XV. In the administration of justice, he scarcely ever gave his decision on the pleadings before the next day, and then in writing. His manner of hearing causes was not to allow any adjournment, but to dispatch them in order as they stood. When he withdrew to consult his assessors, he did not debate the matter openly with them; but silently and privately reading over their opinions, which they gave separately in writing, (347) he pronounced sentence from the tribunal according to his own view of the case, as if it was the opinion of the majority. For a long time he would not admit the sons of freedmen into the senate; and those who had been admitted by former princes, he excluded from all public offices. To supernumerary candidates he gave command in the legions, to comfort them under the delay of their hopes. The consulship he commonly conferred for six months; and one of the two consuls dying a little before the first of January, he substituted no one in his place; disliking what had been formerly done for Caninius Rebilus on such an occasion, who was consul for one day only. He allowed the triumphal honours only to those who were of quaestorian rank, and to some of the equestrian order; and bestowed them without regard to military service. And instead of the quaestors, whose office it properly was, he frequently ordered that the addresses, which he sent to the senate on certain occasions, should be read by the consuls.

XVI. He devised a new style of building in the city, ordering piazzas to be erected before all houses, both in the streets and detached, to give facilities from their terraces, in case of fire, for preventing it from spreading; and these he built at his own expense. He likewise designed to extend the city walls as far as Ostia, and bring the sea from thence by a canal into the old city. Many severe regulations and new orders were made in his time. A sumptuary law was enacted. Public suppers were limited to the Sportulae 576; and victualling-houses restrained from selling any dressed victuals, except pulse and herbs, whereas before they sold all kinds of meat. He likewise inflicted punishments on the Christians, a sort of people who held a new and impious 577 superstition.

\(348\) He forbad the revels of the charioteers, who had long assumed a licence to stroll about, and established for themselves a kind of prescriptive right to cheat and thieve, making a jest of it. The partisans of the rival theatrical performers were banished, as well as the actors themselves.

XVII. To prevent forgery, a method was then first invented, of having writings bored, run through three times with a thread, and then sealed. It was likewise provided that in wills, the two first pages, with only the testator’s name upon them, should be presented blank to those who were to sign them as witnesses; and that no one who wrote a will for another, should insert any legacy for himself. It was likewise ordained that clients should pay their advocates a certain reasonable fee, but nothing for the court, which was to be gratuitous, the charges for it being paid out of the public treasury; that causes, the cognizance of which before belonged to the judges of the exchequer, should be transferred to the forum, and the ordinary tribunals; and that all appeals from the judges should be made to the senate.

XVIII. He never entertained the least ambition or hope of augmenting and extending the frontiers of the empire. On the contrary, he had thoughts of withdrawing the troops from Britain, and was only restrained from so doing by the fear of appearing to detract from the glory of his father 578. All (349) that he did was to reduce the kingdom of Pontus, which was ceded to him by Polemon, and also the Alps 579, upon the death of Cottius, into the form of a province.

XIX. Twice only he undertook any foreign expeditions, one to Alexandria, and the other to Achaia; but he abandoned the prosecution of the former on the very day fixed for his departure, by being deterred both by ill omens, and the hazard of the voyage. For while he was making the circuit of the temples, having seated himself in that of Vesta, when he attempted to rise, the skirt of his robe stuck fast; and he was instantly seized with such a dimness in his eyes, that he could not see a yard before him. In Achaia, he attempted to make a cut through the Isthmus 580; and, having made a speech encouraging his pretorians to set about the work, on a signal given by sound of trumpet, he first broke ground with a spade, and carried off a basket full of earth upon his shoulders. He made preparations for an expedition to the Pass of the Caspian mountains 581; forming a new legion out of his late levies in Italy, of men all six feet high, which he called the phalanx of Alexander the Great. These transactions, in part unexceptionable, and in part highly commendable, I have brought into one view, in order to separate them from the scandalous and criminal part of his conduct, of which I shall now give an account.

XX. Among the other liberal arts which he was taught in his youth, he was instructed in music; and immediately after (350) his advancement to the empire, he sent for Terpnus, a performer upon the harp 582, who flourished at that time with the highest reputation. Sitting with him for several days following, as he sang and played after supper, until late at night, he began by degrees to practise upon the instrument himself. Nor did he omit any of those expedients which artists in music adopt, for the preservation and improvement of their voices. He would lie upon his back with a sheet of lead upon his breast, clear his stomach and bowels by vomits and clysters, and forbear the eating of fruits, or food prejudicial to the voice. Encouraged by his proficiency, though his voice was naturally neither loud nor clear, he was desirous of appearing upon the stage, frequently repeating amongst his friends a Greek proverb to this effect: “that no one had any regard for music which they never heard.” Accordingly, he made his first public appearance at Naples; and although the theatre quivered with the sudden shock of an earthquake, he did not desist, until he had finished the piece of music he had begun. He played and sung in the same place several times, and for several days together; taking only now and then a little respite to refresh his voice. Impatient of retirement, it was his custom to go from the bath to the theatre; and after dining in the orchestra, amidst a crowded assembly of the people, he promised them in Greek 583, “that after he had drank a little, he would give them a tune which would make their ears tingle.” Being highly pleased with the songs that were sung in his praise by some Alexandrians belonging to the fleet just arrived at Naples 584, he sent for more of the like singers from Alexandria. At the same time, he chose young men of the equestrian order, and above five thousand robust young fellows from the common people, on purpose to learn various kinds of applause, called bombi, imbrices, and testae 585, which they were to practise in his favour, whenever he performed. They were (351) divided into several parties, and were remarkable for their fine heads of hair, and were extremely well dressed, with rings upon their left hands. The leaders of these bands had salaries of forty thousand sesterces allowed them.

XXI. At Rome also, being extremely proud of his singing, he ordered the games called Neronia to be celebrated before the time fixed for their return. All now becoming importunate to hear “his heavenly voice,” he informed them, “that he would gratify those who desired it at the gardens.” But the soldiers then on guard seconding the voice of the people, he promised to comply with their request immediately, and with all his heart. He instantly ordered his name to be entered upon the list of musicians who proposed to contend, and having thrown his lot into the urn among the rest, took his turn, and entered, attended by the prefects of the pretorian cohorts bearing his harp, and followed by the military tribunes, and several of his intimate friends. After he had taken his station, and made the usual prelude, he commanded Cluvius Rufus, a man of consular rank, to proclaim in the theatre, that he intended to sing the story of Niobe. This he accordingly did, and continued it until nearly ten o’clock, but deferred the disposal of the crown, and the remaining part of the solemnity, until the next year; that he might have more frequent opportunities of performing. But that being too long, he could not refrain from often appearing as a public performer during the interval. He made no scruple of exhibiting on the stage, even in the spectacles presented to the people by private persons, and was offered by one of the praetors, no less than a million of sesterces for his services. He likewise sang tragedies in a mask; the visors of the heroes and gods, as also of the heroines and goddesses, being formed into a resemblance of his own face, and that of any woman he was in love with. Amongst the rest, he sung “Canace in Labour,” 586 “Orestes the Murderer of his Mother,” “Oedipus (352) Blinded,” and “Hercules Mad.” In the last tragedy, it is said that a young sentinel, posted at the entrance of the stage, seeing him in a prison dress and bound with fetters, as the fable of the play required, ran to his assistance.

XXII. He had from his childhood an extravagant passion for horses; and his constant talk was of the Circensian races, notwithstanding it was prohibited him. Lamenting once, among his fellow-pupils, the case of a charioteer of the green party, who was dragged round the circus at the tail of his chariot, and being reprimanded by his tutor for it, he pretended that he was talking of Hector. In the beginning of his reign, he used to amuse himself daily with chariots drawn by four horses, made of ivory, upon a table. He attended at all the lesser exhibitions in the circus, at first privately, but at last openly; so that nobody ever doubted of his presence on any particular day. Nor did he conceal his desire to have the number of the prizes doubled; so that the races being increased accordingly, the diversion continued until a late hour; the leaders of parties refusing now to bring out their companies for any time less than the whole day. Upon this, he took a fancy for driving the chariot himself, and that even publicly. Having made his first experiment in the gardens, amidst crowds of slaves and other rabble, he at length performed in the view of all the people, in the Circus Maximus, whilst one of his freedmen dropped the napkin in the place where the magistrates used to give the signal. Not satisfied with exhibiting various specimens of his skill in those arts at Rome, he went over to Achaia, as has been already said, principally for this purpose. The several cities, in which solemn trials of musical skill used to be publicly held, had resolved to send him the crowns belonging to those who bore away the prize. These he accepted so graciously, that he not only gave the deputies who brought them an immediate audience, but even invited them to his table. Being requested by some of them to sing at supper, and prodigiously applauded, he said, “the Greeks were the only people who has an ear for music, and were the only good judges of him and his attainments.” Without delay he commenced his journey, and on his arrival at Cassiope 587, (352) exhibited his first musical performance before the altar of Jupiter Cassius.

XXIII. He afterwards appeared at the celebration of all public games in Greece: for such as fell in different years, he brought within the compass of one, and some he ordered to be celebrated a second time in the same year. At Olympia, likewise, contrary to custom, he appointed a public performance in music: and that he might meet with no interruption in this employment, when he was informed by his freedman Helius, that affairs at Rome required his presence, he wrote to him in these words: “Though now all your hopes and wishes are for my speedy return, yet you ought rather to advise and hope that I may come back with a character worthy of Nero.” During the time of his musical performance, nobody was allowed to stir out of the theatre upon any account, however necessary; insomuch, that it is said some women with child were delivered there. Many of the spectators being quite wearied with hearing and applauding him, because the town gates were shut, slipped privately over the walls; or counterfeiting themselves dead, were carried out for their funeral. With what extreme anxiety he engaged in these contests, with what keen desire to bear away the prize, and with how much awe of the judges, is scarcely to be believed. As if his adversaries had been on a level with himself, he would watch them narrowly, defame them privately, and sometimes, upon meeting them, rail at them in very scurrilous language; or bribe them, if they were better performers than himself. He always addressed the judges with the most profound reverence before he began, telling them, “he had done all things that were necessary, by way of preparation, but that the issue of the approaching trial was in the hand of fortune; and that they, as wise and skilful men, ought to exclude from their judgment things merely accidental.” Upon their encouraging him to have a good heart, he went off with more assurance, but not entirely free from anxiety; interpreting the silence and modesty of some of them into sourness and ill-nature, and saying that he was suspicious of them.

XXIV. In these contests, he adhered so strictly to the rules, (354) that he never durst spit, nor wipe the sweat from his forehead in any other way than with his sleeve. Having, in the performance of a tragedy, dropped his sceptre, and not quickly recovering it, he was in a great fright, lest he should be set aside for the miscarriage, and could not regain his assurance, until an actor who stood by swore he was certain it had not been observed in the midst of the acclamations and exultations of the people. When the prize was adjudged to him, he always proclaimed it himself; and even entered the lists with the heralds. That no memory or the least monument might remain of any other victor in the sacred Grecian games, he ordered all their statues and pictures to be pulled down, dragged away with hooks, and thrown into the common sewers. He drove the chariot with various numbers of horses, and at the Olympic games with no fewer than ten; though, in a poem of his, he had reflected upon Mithridates for that innovation. Being thrown out of his chariot, he was again replaced, but could not retain his seat, and was obliged to give up, before he reached the goal, but was crowned notwithstanding. On his departure, he declared the whole province a free country, and conferred upon the judges in the several games the freedom of Rome, with large sums of money. All these favours he proclaimed himself with his own voice, from the middle of the Stadium, during the solemnity of the Isthmian games.

XXV. On his return from Greece, arriving at Naples, because he had commenced his career as a public performer in that city, he made his entrance in a chariot drawn by white horses through a breach in the city-wall, according to the practice of those who were victorious in the sacred Grecian games. In the same manner he entered Antium, Alba, and Rome. He made his entry into the city riding in the same chariot in which Augustus had triumphed, in a purple tunic, and a cloak embroidered with golden stars, having on his head the crown won at Olympia, and in his right hand that which was given him at the Parthian games: the rest being carried in a procession before him, with inscriptions denoting the places where they had been won, from whom, and in what plays or musical performances; whilst a train followed him with loud acclamations, crying out, that “they (355) were the emperor’s attendants, and the soldiers of his triumph.” Having then caused an arch of the Circus Maximus 588 to be taken down, he passed through the breach, as also through the Velabrum 589 and the forum, to the Palatine hill and the temple of Apollo. Everywhere as he marched along, victims were slain, whilst the streets were strewed with saffron, and birds, chaplets, and sweetmeats scattered abroad. He suspended the sacred crowns in his chamber, about his beds, and caused statues of himself to be erected in the attire of a harper, and had his likeness stamped upon the coin in the same dress. After this period, he was so far from abating any thing of his application to music, that, for the preservation of his voice, he never addressed the soldiers but by messages, or with some person to deliver his speeches for him, when he thought fit to make his appearance amongst them. Nor did he ever do any thing either in jest or earnest, without a voice-master standing by him to caution him against overstraining his vocal organs, and to apply a handkerchief to his mouth when he did. He offered his friendship, or avowed (356) open enmity to many, according as they were lavish or sparing in giving him their applause.

XXVI. Petulancy, lewdness, luxury, avarice, and cruelty, he practised at first with reserve and in private, as if prompted to them only by the folly of youth; but, even then, the world was of opinion that they were the faults of his nature, and not of his age. After it was dark, he used to enter the taverns disguised in a cap or a wig, and ramble about the streets in sport, which was not void of mischief. He used to beat those he met coming home from supper; and, if they made any resistance, would wound them, and throw them into the common sewer. He broke open and robbed shops; establishing an auction at home for selling his booty. In the scuffles which took place on those occasions, he often ran the hazard of losing his eyes, and even his life; being beaten almost to death by a senator, for handling his wife indecently. After this adventure, he never again ventured abroad at that time of night, without some tribunes following him at a little distance. In the day-time he would be carried to the theatre incognito in a litter, placing himself upon the upper part of the proscenium, where he not only witnessed the quarrels which arose on account of the performances, but also encouraged them. When they came to blows, and stones and pieces of broken benches began to fly about, he threw them plentifully amongst the people, and once even broke a praetor’s head.

XXVII. His vices gaining strength by degrees, he laid aside his jocular amusements, and all disguise; breaking out into enormous crimes, without the least attempt to conceal them. His revels were prolonged from mid-day to midnight, while he was frequently refreshed by warm baths, and, in the summer time, by such as were cooled with snow. He often supped in public, in the Naumachia, with the sluices shut, or in the Campus Martius, or the Circus Maximus, being waited upon at table by common prostitutes of the town, and Syrian strumpets and glee-girls. As often as he went down the Tiber to Ostia, or coasted through the gulf of Baiae, booths furnished as brothels and eating-houses, were erected along the shore and river banks; before which stood matrons, who, like bawds and hostesses, allured him to land. It was also his custom to invite (357) himself to supper with his friends; at one of which was expended no less than four millions of sesterces in chaplets, and at another something more in roses.

XXVIII. Besides the abuse of free-born lads, and the debauch of married women, he committed a rape upon Rubria, a Vestal Virgin. He was upon the point of marrying Acte 590, his freedwoman, having suborned some men of consular rank to swear that she was of royal descent. He gelded the boy Sporus, and endeavoured to transform him into a woman. He even went so far as to marry him, with all the usual formalities of a marriage settlement, the rose-coloured nuptial veil, and a numerous company at the wedding. When the ceremony was over, he had him conducted like a bride to his own house, and treated him as his wife 591. It was jocularly observed by some person, “that it would have been well for mankind, had such a wife fallen to the lot of his father Domitius.” This Sporus he carried about with him in a litter round the solemn assemblies and fairs of Greece, and afterwards at Rome through the Sigillaria 592, dressed in the rich attire of an empress; kissing him from time to time as they rode together. That he entertained an incestuous passion for his mother 593, but was deterred by her enemies, for fear that this haughty and overbearing woman should, by her compliance, get him entirely into her power, and govern in every thing, was universally believed; especially after he had introduced amongst his concubines a strumpet, who was reported to have a strong resemblance to Agrippina 594.—

XXIX. He prostituted his own chastity to such a degree, that (358) after he had defiled every part of his person with some unnatural pollution, he at last invented an extraordinary kind of diversion; which was, to be let out of a den in the arena, covered with the skin of a wild beast, and then assail with violence the private parts both of men and women, while they were bound to stakes. After he had vented his furious passion upon them, he finished the play in the embraces of his freedman Doryphorus 595, to whom he was married in the same way that Sporus had been married to himself; imitating the cries and shrieks of young virgins, when they are ravished. I have been informed from numerous sources, that he firmly believed, no man in the world to be chaste, or any part of his person undefiled; but that most men concealed that vice, and were cunning enough to keep it secret. To those, therefore, who frankly owned their unnatural lewdness, he forgave all other crimes.

XXX. He thought there was no other use of riches and money than to squander them away profusely; regarding all those as sordid wretches who kept their expenses within due bounds; and extolling those as truly noble and generous souls, who lavished away and wasted all they possessed. He praised and admired his uncle Caius 596, upon no account more, than for squandering in a short time the vast treasure left him by Tiberius. Accordingly, he was himself extravagant and profuse, beyond all bounds. He spent upon Tiridates eight hundred thousand sesterces a day, a sum almost incredible; and at his departure, presented him with upwards of a million 597. He likewise bestowed upon Menecrates the harper, and Spicillus a gladiator, the estates and houses of men who had received the honour of a triumph. He enriched the usurer Cercopithecus Panerotes with estates both in town and country; and gave him a funeral, in pomp and magnificence little inferior to that of princes. He never wore the same garment twice. He (359) has been known to stake four hundred thousand sesterces on a throw of the dice. It was his custom to fish with a golden net, drawn by silken cords of purple and scarlet. It is said, that he never travelled with less than a thousand baggage-carts; the mules being all shod with silver, and the drivers dressed in scarlet jackets of the finest Canusian cloth 598, with a numerous train of footmen, and troops of Mazacans 599, with bracelets on their arms, and mounted upon horses in splendid trappings.

XXXI. In nothing was he more prodigal than in his buildings. He completed his palace by continuing it from the Palatine to the Esquiline hill, calling the building at first only “The Passage,” but, after it was burnt down and rebuilt, “The Golden House.” 600 Of its dimensions and furniture, it may be sufficient to say thus much: the porch was so high that there stood in it a colossal statue of himself a hundred and twenty feet in height; and the space included in it was so ample, that it had triple porticos a mile in length, and a lake like a sea, surrounded with buildings which had the appearance of a city. Within its area were corn fields, vineyards, pastures, and woods, containing a vast number of animals of various kinds, both wild and tame. In other parts it was entirely over-laid with gold, and adorned with jewels and mother of pearl. The supper rooms were vaulted, and compartments of the ceilings, inlaid with ivory, were made to revolve, and scatter flowers; while they contained pipes which (360) shed unguents upon the guests. The chief banqueting room was circular, and revolved perpetually, night and day, in imitation of the motion of the celestial bodies. The baths were supplied with water from the sea and the Albula. Upon the dedication of this magnificent house after it was finished, all he said in approval of it was, “that he had now a dwelling fit for a man.” He commenced making a pond for the reception of all the hot streams from Baiae, which he designed to have continued from Misenum to the Avernian lake, in a conduit, enclosed in galleries; and also a canal from Avernum to Ostia, that ships might pass from one to the other, without a sea voyage. The length of the proposed canal was one hundred and sixty miles; and it was intended to be of breadth sufficient to permit ships with five banks of oars to pass each other. For the execution of these designs, he ordered all prisoners, in every part of the empire, to be brought to Italy; and that even those who were convicted of the most heinous crimes, in lieu of any other sentence, should be condemned to work at them. He was encouraged to all this wild and enormous profusion, not only by the great revenue of the empire, but by the sudden hopes given him of an immense hidden treasure, which queen Dido, upon her flight from Tyre, had brought with her to Africa. This, a Roman knight pretended to assure him, upon good grounds, was still hid there in some deep caverns, and might with a little labour be recovered.

XXXII. But being disappointed in his expectations of this resource, and reduced to such difficulties, for want of money, that he was obliged to defer paying his troops, and the rewards due to the veterans; he resolved upon supplying his necessities by means of false accusations and plunder. In the first place, he ordered, that if any freedman, without sufficient reason, bore the name of the family to which he belonged; the half, instead of three fourths, of his estate should be brought into the exchequer at his decease: also that the estates of all such persons as had not in their wills been mindful of their prince, should be confiscated; and that the lawyers who had drawn or dictated such wills, should be liable to a fine. He ordained likewise, that all words and actions, upon which any informer could ground a prosecution, should be deemed treason. He demanded an equivalent for the crowns which the cities of (361) Greece had at any time offered him in the solemn games. Having forbad any one to use the colours of amethyst and Tyrian purple, he privately sent a person to sell a few ounces of them upon the day of the Nundinae, and then shut up all the merchants’ shops, on the pretext that his edict had been violated. It is said, that, as he was playing and singing in the theatre, observing a married lady dressed in the purple which he had prohibited, he pointed her out to his procurators; upon which she was immediately dragged out of her seat, and not only stripped of her clothes, but her property. He never nominated a person to any office without saying to him, “You know what I want; and let us take care that nobody has any thing he can call his own.” At last he rifled many temples of the rich offerings with which they were stored, and melted down all the gold and silver statues, and amongst them those of the penates 601, which Galba afterwards restored.

XXXIII. He began the practice of parricide and murder with Claudius himself; for although he was not the contriver of his death, he was privy to the plot. Nor did he make any secret of it; but used afterwards to commend, in a Greek proverb, mushrooms as food fit for the gods, because Claudius had been poisoned with them. He traduced his memory both by word and deed in the grossest manner; one while charging him with folly, another while with cruelty. For he used to say by way of jest, that he had ceased morari 602 amongst men, pronouncing the first syllable long; and treated as null many of his decrees and ordinances, as made by a doting old blockhead. He enclosed the place where his body was burnt with only a low wall of rough masonry. He attempted to poison (362) Britannicus, as much out of envy because he had a sweeter voice, as from apprehension of what might ensue from the respect which the people entertained for his father’s memory. He employed for this purpose a woman named Locusta, who had been a witness against some persons guilty of like practices. But the poison she gave him, working more slowly than he expected, and only causing a purge, he sent for the woman, and beat her with his own hand, charging her with administering an antidote instead of poison; and upon her alleging in excuse, that she had given Britannicus but a gentle mixture in order to prevent suspicion, “Think you,” said he, “that I am afraid of the Julian law;” and obliged her to prepare, in his own chamber and before his eyes, as quick and strong a dose as possible. This he tried upon a kid: but the animal lingering for five hours before it expired, he ordered her to go to work again; and when she had done, he gave the poison to a pig, which dying immediately, he commanded the potion to be brought into the eating-room and given to Britannicus, while he was at supper with him. The prince had no sooner tasted it than he sunk on the floor, Nero meanwhile, pretending to the guests, that it was only a fit of the falling sickness, to which, he said, he was subject. He buried him the following day, in a mean and hurried way, during violent storms of rain. He gave Locusta a pardon, and rewarded her with a great estate in land, placing some disciples with her, to be instructed in her trade.

XXXIV. His mother being used to make strict inquiry into what he said or did, and to reprimand him with the freedom of a parent, he was so much offended, that he endeavoured to expose her to public resentment, by frequently pretending a resolution to quit the government, and retire to Rhodes. Soon afterwards, he deprived her of all honour and power, took from her the guard of Roman and German soldiers, banished her from the palace and from his society, and persecuted her in every way he could contrive; employing persons to harass her when at Rome with law-suits, and to disturb her in her retirement from town with the most scurrilous and abusive language, following her about by land and sea. But being terrified with her menaces and violent spirit, he resolved upon her destruction, and thrice attempted it by poison. Finding, however, (363) that she had previously secured herself by antidotes, he contrived machinery, by which the floor over her bed-chamber might be made to fall upon her while she was asleep in the night. This design miscarrying likewise, through the little caution used by those who were in the secret, his next stratagem was to construct a ship which could be easily shivered, in hopes of destroying her either by drowning, or by the deck above her cabin crushing her in its fall. Accordingly, under colour of a pretended reconciliation, he wrote her an extremely affectionate letter, inviting her to Baiae, to celebrate with him the festival of Minerva. He had given private orders to the captains of the galleys which were to attend her, to shatter to pieces the ship in which she had come, by falling foul of it, but in such manner that it might appear to be done accidentally. He prolonged the entertainment, for the more convenient opportunity of executing the plot in the night; and at her return for Bauli 603, instead of the old ship which had conveyed her to Baiae, he offered that which he had contrived for her destruction. He attended her to the vessel in a very cheerful mood, and, at parting with her, kissed her breasts; after which he sat up very late in the night, waiting with great anxiety to learn the issue of his project. But receiving information that every thing had fallen out contrary to his wish, and that she had saved herself by swimming—not knowing what course to take, upon her freedman, Lucius Agerinus bringing word, with great joy, that she was safe and well, he privately dropped a poniard by him. He then commanded the freedman to be seized and put in chains, under pretence of his having been employed by his mother to assassinate him; at the same time ordering her to be put to death, and giving out, that, to avoid punishment for her intended crime, she had laid violent hands upon herself. Other circumstances, still more horrible, are related on good authority; as that he went to view her corpse, and handling her limbs, pointed out some blemishes, and commended other points; and that, growing thirsty during the survey, he called for drink. Yet he was never afterwards able to bear the stings of his own conscience for this atrocious act, although encouraged by the congratulatory addresses of the army, the senate, and people. He frequently affirmed that he was haunted by his mother’s ghost, and persecuted with the whips (364) and burning torches of the Furies. Nay, he attempted by magical rites to bring up her ghost from below, and soften her rage against him. When he was in Greece, he durst not attend the celebration of the Eleusinian mysteries, at the initiation of which, impious and wicked persons are warned by the voice of the herald from approaching the rites 604. Besides the murder of his mother, he had been guilty of that of his aunt; for, being obliged to keep her bed in consequence of a complaint in her bowels, he paid her a visit, and she, being then advanced in years, stroking his downy chin, in the tenderness of affection, said to him: “May I but live to see the day when this is shaved for the first time 605, and I shall then die contented.” He turned, however, to those about him, made a jest of it, saying, that he would have his beard immediately taken off, and ordered the physicians to give her more violent purgatives. He seized upon her estate before she had expired; suppressing her will, that he might enjoy the whole himself.

XXXV. Besides Octavia, he had two other wives: Poppaea Sabina, whose father held the office of quaestor and who had previously been married to a Roman knight; and after her, Statilia Messalina, great-granddaughter of Taurus, who was twice consul and honored with a triumph. To win her, Nero had her husband, Atticus Vestinus—who was then consul—put to death. He soon grew weary of Octavia and stopped having any relations with her; when his friends criticized him for this, he replied, “She should be content with having the rank and privileges of my wife.” Soon after, he made several failed attempts to strangle her, and then divorced her for alleged barrenness. But as the people disapproved of the divorce and criticized him harshly, he also banished her. Finally, he (365) had her put to death on a charge of adultery—a charge so blatant and false that, when everyone questioned under torture denied any knowledge of it, he bribed his tutor, Anicetus, to claim he had secretly had an affair with her and dishonored her. Just twelve days after divorcing Octavia, he married Poppaea, with whom he appeared to be deeply in love; yet he killed her with a kick while she was pregnant and in poor health, merely because she complained about his returning late from driving his chariot. He had a daughter by her, Claudia Augusta, who died as an infant. No one connected to him was spared his deadly and arbitrary cruelty. On the pretense that she was plotting against him, he executed Antonia, Claudius’s daughter, who had refused to marry him after Poppaea’s death. He similarly destroyed all who were related to him by blood or marriage, among them the young Aulus Plautinus. Nero first forced him into a sexual relationship and then had him executed, exclaiming, “Let my mother bestow her kisses on my successor, so defiled!” pretending Plautinus had been his mother’s lover, and by her support aspired to the throne. He had his stepson, Rufinus Crispinus—Poppaea’s son and still a minor—drowned in the sea by his own slaves while fishing, just because he was said to often play the role of a general or emperor with his friends. He banished Tuscus, his nurse’s son, for daring, as procurator of Egypt, to bathe in baths built in anticipation of Nero’s visit. Seneca, his tutor, was forced to commit suicide, though when Seneca asked permission to retire and offered to surrender his property, Nero solemnly swore, “there is no reason for suspicion, and I would rather perish myself than harm you.” To Burrhus, the praetorian prefect, whom he promised a cure for a swelling in his throat, he sent poison instead. He poisoned several old, wealthy freedmen of Claudius—who had not only helped promote his adoption but his rise to emperor and had been his guardians—by lacing their food or drink with toxins.

XXXVI. Nor was he less cruel to those outside his family. A blazing star, popularly believed to foretell ruin for kings and princes, appeared above the horizon on several consecutive nights. Deeply anxious about this omen, and advised by the astrologer Babilus that rulers could avert such dangers by sacrificing distinguished individuals in place of themselves, he determined on the destruction of Rome’s leading nobles. He was further emboldened to do this, since recent discoveries of two conspiracies—one by Piso in Rome (the more dangerous), and another by Vinicius at Beneventum—seemed to give some pretext for such actions. The conspirators were brought to trial in triple chains. Some admitted their guilt; others confessed they believed assassinating Nero would be a favor, since death was the only way to free someone disgraced by the greatest crimes. The children of those condemned were exiled from the city, and later poisoned or starved to death. It is claimed that some, along with their tutors and the slaves who carried their school bags, were all poisoned at the same meal; others were left to starve, denied the ability to seek food.

XXXVII. From this time onward, he slaughtered indiscriminately and relentlessly all whom his whims marked for cruelty, often for the most trivial reasons. For example: Salvidienus Orfitus was accused of renting out three taverns attached to his house in the Forum to delegations from various cities. Cassius Longinus, a blind legal expert, was charged simply for keeping among the busts of his ancestors that of Caius Cassius, who had taken part in Caesar’s assassination. The only accusation against Paetus Thrasea was that he had a gloomy manner and looked like a schoolmaster. He gave those ordered to commit suicide only one hour; and to prevent delay, he sent them doctors “to cure them at once if they lingered past that time”—meaning, to bleed them to death. It was credibly rumored at the time that there was an Egyptian of such monstrous appetite that he could digest raw flesh or anything offered, and that Nero eagerly wished to provide him with live humans to tear apart and eat. Exhilarated by his success in committing such crimes, Nero declared, “No prince before me has ever understood the full extent of his power.” He openly hinted that he would not spare even the remaining senators, but would utterly destroy that order and put the provinces and armies under the authority of Roman knights and his own freedmen. He is known never to have given, or even returned, a customary kiss on greeting or parting, nor even acknowledged a salute. And at the inauguration of the canal through the Isthmus, amidst a great crowd, he loudly prayed that “the undertaking might be fortunate for himself and the Roman people,” deliberately omitting any mention of the senate.

XXXVIII. He spared neither the people of Rome nor the city itself. Once, in a conversation, someone said—

Emou thanontos gaia michthaeto pyri  
“When I am dead, let fire consume the world.”

“Nay,” Nero replied, “let it happen while I live” [emou xontos]. He made good on his words: pretending disgust at the old buildings and the city’s narrow, winding streets, he openly set Rome ablaze. Many of consular rank caught his own household slaves on their property with flax and torches in hand, but dared not intervene. Near his Golden House stood some granaries, a site he greatly desired; these were battered as with siege engines and set on fire, even though their walls were of stone. The fire raged for six days and seven nights, driving people to seek shelter among tombs and monuments. Many grand houses, once belonging to celebrated generals and adorned with the spoils of war, were destroyed, along with temples built and consecrated by the kings of Rome and, later, during the Punic and Gallic wars. In short, everything noteworthy that time had spared was consumed. Nero watched the blaze from a tower in the house of Maecenas and, expressing his delight at the spectacle, sang a poem about the ruin of Troy, dressed in the tragic costume he wore for the stage. To profit from the disaster, he promised to remove the bodies of those who died and clear the ruins at his own expense, forbidding anyone else from touching the remains. But he not only collected, but actually demanded, contributions for the damages until he had drained resources from both the provinces and individuals.

XXXIX. To these terrible and shameful disasters inflicted by their ruler, the people suffered other misfortunes as well. These included a plague that, as recorded in the temple of Libitina, killed no fewer than thirty thousand people during a single autumn; a major calamity in Britain, where two of Rome’s principal towns were sacked and terrible losses suffered by Roman troops and allies; and a disgraceful defeat in the East, when, in Armenia, Roman legions were forced to pass under the yoke and Syria was barely retained. Remarkably, Nero endured only one thing with patience: the verbal abuse and sharp criticism that circulated everywhere—showing more tolerance towards those who ridiculed him than any other group. Many remarks and verses were posted or published around the city in both Greek and Latin, such as these:

Neron, Orestaes, Alkmaion, maetroktonai.  
Neonymphon Neron, idian maeter apekteinen.

Orestes and Alcaeon—Nero too,  
The lustful Nero, worst of all the crew,  
Fresh from his bridal—their own mothers slew.

Quis neget Aeneae magna de stirpe Neronem?  
Sustulit hic matrem: sustulit ille patrem.

Sprung from Aeneas, pious, wise and great,  
Who says that Nero is degenerate?  
Safe through the flames, one bore his sire; the other,  
To save himself, took off his loving mother.

Dum tendit citharam noster, dum cornua Parthus,  
Noster erit Paean, ille Ekataebeletaes.

His lyre to harmony our Nero strings;  
His arrows o’er the plain the Parthian wings:  
Ours call the tuneful Paean,—famed in war,  
The other Phoebus name, the god who shoots afar.

Roma domus fiet: Vejos migrate, Quirites,

Si non et Vejos occupat ista domus.

All Rome will be one house: to Veii fly,  
Should it not stretch to Veii, by and by. 619

\(370\) But he made no inquiry about the culprits, and, even when some were reported to the senate, he did not allow a harsh sentence to be imposed. Isidorus, the Cynic philosopher, loudly said to him in the street, “You sing the misfortunes of Nauplius well, but your own conduct is shameful.” And Datus, a comic actor, when reciting the lines, “Farewell, father! Farewell mother!” mimicked people drinking and swimming, clearly referring to the deaths of Claudius and Agrippina. Upon reaching the final line,

Orcus vobis ducit pedes;  
You stand this moment on the brink of Orcus;

he obviously implied that it referred to the senate's precarious position. Yet Nero only banished both the actor and the philosopher from the city and Italy—either because he was indifferent to shame, or because he feared that if he showed his irritation, even harsher things would be said about him.

XL. After nearly fourteen years under such an emperor, the world at last turned its back on him; the first to revolt were the Gauls, led by Julius Vindex, who was then governor of the province as pro-praetor. Nero had earlier been told by astrologers that he would ultimately be deserted by the whole world. This was the source of his famous saying, “An artist can live in any country;” by which he meant to justify his pursuit of music, implying that it could support him if he were reduced to private life. Some astrologers even promised him he would rule over the East in his lonely state, and some even said specifically he would be king of Jerusalem. Most, however, flattered him with assurances that he would be restored to his former fortune. As he was more inclined to believe these predictions, when he lost Britain and Armenia, he thought he had already endured all the misfortunes the fates had set for him. But when, after consulting the oracle of Apollo at Delphi, he was told to beware of his seventy-third year, he took this to mean he would not die before then. Forgetting about Galba's age, he became so confident of long life and continuous good fortune that, after losing valuable items in a shipwreck, he told his friends that (371) “the fishes would bring them back to him.” At Naples he heard of the uprising in Gaul, on the anniversary of his mother's murder, and took it so lightly that people suspected he was actually pleased, since it gave him a valid excuse to pillage those rich provinces in the name of war. He immediately went to the gymnasium and watched the wrestlers’ exercises with the greatest enjoyment. When he was interrupted at supper by even worse news in letters, he showed no greater emotion than simply threatening the rebels. For eight days, he refused to answer any letters or issue any orders, burying the whole affair in deep silence.

XLI. At last, roused by the many proclamations of Vindex, mocking and insulting him, he wrote to the senate urging them to avenge his wrongs and those of the republic. He asked them to excuse his absence from the senate-house because he had caught a cold. But what hurt him most was being mocked as a mere lyre-player, and called Aenobarbus instead of Nero; since this was his family name, he declared, as a result of being taunted, that he would resume it and drop the one he had taken by adoption. He dismissed all other accusations as totally false, but vehemently denied the charge of lacking skill in the art he had worked so hard to master, repeatedly asking those around him, “Do you know anyone who is a better musician?” Alarmed by messenger after messenger bringing ever-worse news from Gaul, he returned to Rome in great panic. On the road, his spirits were lifted by a trivial omen: a monument depicted a Gallic soldier defeated and dragged by the hair by a Roman knight; at this, he leapt for joy and thanked the heavens. Even so, he didn’t appeal to either the senate or the people, but gathered some leading men in his house for a quick meeting on the situation, then spent the rest of the day showing them new water-powered musical instruments, explaining their design and challenges in detail, and telling them he planned to showcase them in the theatre—if only Vindex would let him.

XLII. Soon after, he received news that Galba and the Spaniards had revolted against him. On hearing this, he fainted and seemed to lose his senses, lying speechless and apparently dead for a long time. Once he recovered, he tore his clothes and beat his head, crying, “It's all over with me!” When his nurse tried to comfort him, reminding him that other princes had faced similar situations, he replied, “I am more wretched than any, for I have lost an empire while still alive.” Nevertheless, he did not reduce his indulgence or neglect of business. In fact, when good news arrived from the provinces, he gave a lavish banquet and sang, with obvious amusement, some cheerful verses about the leaders of the rebellion, which were made public—and accompanied them with fitting gestures. Slipping privately into the theatre, he sent compliments to a performer being cheered by the crowd, saying, “You are applauded now, since I am not performing myself.”

XLIII. When these disturbances first broke out, many believe he formed several monstrous plans, perfectly in line with his nature. These included: sending new governors and commanders to every province and army, with orders to assassinate the former ones, whom he blamed for conspiring against him; massacring the exiles everywhere and all the Gauls in Rome—fearing the former would join the revolt, and the latter were sympathetic to their countrymen; abandoning Gaul entirely to be ravaged and looted by his armies; poisoning the whole senate at a banquet; setting fire to the city and releasing wild beasts on the populace to stop them from fighting the flames. He refrained from acting upon these not so much out of conscience, but out of despair of success, and decided an expedition to Gaul was necessary. He removed the consuls before their term ended and assumed the consulship alone, as if fate decreed only a consul could conquer Gaul. After assuming the fasces, holding a dinner at the palace, he declared to his guests as he walked out leaning on their arms, that, once in the province, he would appear before the troops unarmed, doing nothing but weeping; then, after he'd won their repentance, he would celebrate by publicly singing songs of triumph, which he must start composing immediately.

XLIV. While preparing for this campaign, his main concern was to arrange transport for his musical instruments and theatrical machinery; to have the concubines accompanying him hairstyle their hair like men and equip them with battle-axes and Amazonian shields. He called on the city tribes to enlist, but when no eligible recruits appeared, he ordered all masters to send a quota of their best slaves, including their stewards and secretaries. He demanded every social class pay a fixed proportion of their property, as listed by the censor; all property and house tenants had to pay one year's rent to the treasury on the spot; and, in an unprecedented move, he only accepted freshly minted coins of the purest silver and gold. Most people refused to pay, instead demanding that he squeeze the informers and force them to turn over their illicit profits.

XLV. The general hatred against him only grew due to a severe corn shortage, worsened by an incident linked to it. For just as the scarcity hit, a ship arrived from Alexandria, reportedly carrying dust for the emperor’s wrestlers 621. This so inflamed the public that he was subjected to outrageous abuse and mockery. One of his statues bore the figure of a chariot on top, with a Greek inscription saying, “Now he truly has a race to run; let him be gone.” Another had a bag tied to it with a tag reading, “What else could I do?”—“Truly, you deserve the sack.” 622 Someone even wrote on the forum pillars, “he even woke up the cocks with his singing.” And at night, many people, under the pretense of scolding their servants, frequently called for “a Vindex.” 624

XLVI. He was also unsettled by clear warnings, both old and new, from dreams, omens, and signs. He never used to dream before he murdered his mother. Afterwards, he dreamed of steering a ship and losing control of the rudder, of his wife Octavia dragging him into an utterly dark place, of being covered with swarms of flying ants at one time, and at another surrounded by national statues near Pompey’s theatre which blocked his way; of a Spanish jennet he liked whose hindquarters grew like those of an ape, with its head unchanged, yet it neighed melodiously. The doors of Augustus’s mausoleum opened by themselves, and a voice called his name. The Lares, as they were being adorned with garlands on New Year’s Day, fell down as preparations for sacrifice were under way. When he was consulting omens, Sporus gave him a ring with a carved image of the Rape of Proserpine. At a mass gathering for the solemn vow ceremonies, it took a long time to locate the keys to the Capitol. And as his speech to the senate against Vindex reached the words, “that the miscreants should be punished and soon make the end they merited,” everyone called out, “You will do it, Augustus.” It was also noticed that the last tragic piece he performed was Oedipus in Exile, and he fell just as he was reciting this line:

Thanein m’ anoge syngamos, maetaer, pataer.  
Wife, mother, father, force me to my end.

XLVII. Meanwhile, when word arrived that the remaining armies also declared against him, he tore up the dinner letters, overturned the table, and in a fit of rage smashed two favorite cups—his “Homer’s cups” (named for the poet’s verses carved on them). Then, getting poison from Locusta (which he kept in a golden box), he went to the Servilian gardens and sent a trusted freedman to Ostia to prepare a fleet. He tried, unsuccessfully, to persuade tribunes and centurions of the Praetorian Guard to join him in flight: some hesitated, others outright refused, and one even shouted aloud,

Usque adeone mori miserum est?  
Say, is it then so sad a thing to die? 625

He was now greatly confused whether to submit to Galba, seek protection from the Parthians, or appear before the public in mourning and, on the rostra, beg forgiveness for his former crimes, or, if refused, ask for the government of Egypt at least. Such a speech was later found in his writing-case. It seems he did not follow through with this idea for fear of being torn apart before reaching the Forum. Putting off his decision until the next (376) day, he awoke about midnight and, finding the guards had gone, jumped from bed and sent for his friends. As none replied, he visited their homes with a few attendants. But doors were shut and no one responded, so he returned to his chamber, finding everyone had deserted—even those in charge had left, taking his bedding and the poison with them. He tried to find Spicillus, the gladiator, or anyone to kill him, but failing, he cried, “What! Have I then neither friend nor foe?” and ran out, as if to throw himself in the Tiber.

XLVIII. But calming down, he longed for a hidden place to gather his thoughts. His freedman Phaon offered his country-house, between the Salarian 626 and Nomentan 627 roads, about four miles from the city. Nero mounted a horse, barefoot, wearing only a tunic with an old, soiled cloak over it, his head wrapped and face covered with a handkerchief, attended by just four people, including Sporus. An earthquake and a flash of lightning struck him with terror, and from the nearby camp 628 he heard soldiers shouting for his death and for Galba's success. On the road, he heard a traveler say, “They are (377) after Nero,” and another ask, “Any news in the city about Nero?” When his horse shied at the smell of a corpse on the road and Nero uncovered his face, an old veteran recognized and greeted him. Upon reaching the lane to the house, they left their horses and struggled through bushes and rushes—the others laying down cloaks for him. At the villa’s back wall, Phaon suggested hiding in a sand-pit; Nero said, “I will not go underground alive.” He waited a while until arrangements were made to bring him secretly into the house, drew water from a tank and drank, saying, “This is Nero’s distilled water.” 629 Having torn his cloak on the brambles, he picked out the thorns. He was admitted, crawling through a hole in the wall, then lay on a pallet with a tattered coverlet. Though hungry and thirsty, he rejected coarse bread but drank a little warm water.

XLIX. Now those around him urged him to avoid the terrible humiliations threatening him, so he ordered a pit dug to fit his body, the bottom to be lined with any marble pieces found nearby, and water and wood 630 made ready for his corpse—crying at everything done, often saying, “What an artist is now about to perish!” When a servant brought letters, he grabbed them and read that the senate had declared him an enemy, and that he was to be punished by the ancient Roman custom. He asked what that meant, and was told (378) he would be stripped naked, beaten to death while his neck was fastened in a forked stick. Terrified, he drew out two daggers, tested their points, and put them back, saying, “The fatal hour is not yet come.” At one moment, he asked Sporus to start the mourning cry; another time, he pleaded with someone to set an example by killing himself; and again, he denounced his own hesitation: “I yet live to my shame and disgrace: this is not becoming for Nero: it is not becoming. You ought in these circumstances to have a bold heart. Come, then: have courage, man!” 631 The horsemen, sent to bring him back alive, were now approaching the house. On hearing them, he shuddered and quoted the line:

Hippon m’ okupodon amphi ktupos ouata ballei; 632  
The noise of swift-heeled horses rings in my ears;

He drove a dagger into his throat, with the help of Epaphroditus, his secretary. A centurion burst in just as he was half-dead and pressed his cloak to the wound, pretending to help him. Nero replied only, “‘Tis too late,” and “Is this your loyalty?” Immediately after speaking these words, he died, his eyes fixed and bulging in a way that terrified everyone present. He had asked his attendants, as their greatest favor, not to let anyone have his head and to be sure his body would be burned whole. Icelus, Galba’s freedman, granted this request. Icelus himself had only just been released from prison, where he had been held since the initial outbreak of disturbances.

L. The expenses of his funeral came to two hundred thousand sesterces; the bed on which his body was carried to the pyre and burned was covered with the same white robes, woven with gold, that he had worn on the first of January before. His nurses, Ecloge and Alexandra, along with his concubine Acte, placed his remains in the tomb of the Domitii family, which stands atop the Hill of the Gardens 633 and can be seen from the Campus Martius. In that tomb, a porphyry coffin with a marble altar from Luna on top is enclosed by a wall built of stone brought from Thasos. 634

LI. He was a little below average height; his skin was rough and blotchy; his hair was tinged with yellow; his features were pleasant, rather than handsome; his eyes were grey and dull; his neck thick; his belly prominent; his legs very slender; but he was in good health. Although he was exceedingly indulgent in his lifestyle, over fourteen years he had only three bouts of illness, so mild that he neither stopped drinking wine nor changed his diet. He was so careless in his dress and personal grooming that his hair was cut in rings, one above another; in Achaia, he wore it long in the back; and he often appeared in public in the loose attire he wore at the table, with a handkerchief around his neck, and without a belt or shoes.

LII. As a boy, he was taught the basics of nearly all the liberal arts, but his mother diverted him from studying philosophy, believing it unfit for someone destined to be emperor. His tutor, Seneca, discouraged him from reading the ancient orators to keep him longer devoted to himself. Thus, having a talent for poetry, (380) he wrote verses with both pleasure and ease; nor, as some claimed, did he pass off others’ work as his own. Several small notebooks and loose sheets have come into my possession, containing well-known verses in his own handwriting—so blotched and interlined that it was clear they hadn’t been copied but were the work of their composer.

LIII. He also had a strong liking for drawing and painting, as well as for making plaster statues. But above all, he craved popularity, competing with any man who received public applause for anything. It was widely believed that after the crowns he won performing on stage, he would, in the next lustrum, have participated among the wrestlers at the Olympic games. He was always practicing that art; he never watched gymnastic games in Greece except sitting on the ground in the stadium, like the judges. If wrestlers broke the boundaries, he would drag them back to the center himself. Since he was thought to rival Apollo in music and the sun in chariot-driving, he also meant to imitate the feats of Hercules. It is said a lion was prepared for him to slay, either with a club or a close embrace, in front of the crowds at the amphitheater; he was to perform this naked.

LIV. Towards the end of his life, he declared publicly that if his power in the state was securely restored, the spectacles—held to celebrate his success—would include a performance on organs 635, as well as on flutes and bagpipes. On the final day, he would act in a play, taking the part of Turnus from Virgil. Some say he killed the actor Paris as a dangerous rival.

LV. He had an insatiable urge to make his name immortal and earn a reputation lasting for all time, but his efforts were often unpredictable. He (381) renamed several things and places after himself. He called April "Neroneus," and intended to change the name of Rome itself to "Neropolis."

LVI. He held all religious rites in contempt except those of the Syrian Goddess 636; but eventually, he showed her little respect as well, even urinating on her, being then absorbed by another superstition in which alone he steadfastly believed. After receiving a little image of a girl from an unknown commoner, as protection against plots, and discovering a conspiracy soon after, he began constantly worshipping his imaginary protector as the greatest of the gods, offering her three sacrifices daily. He also wanted people to believe that this deity gave him knowledge of future events by revelation. A few months before his death, he attended an Etruscan sacrifice, but the omens were unfavorable.

LVII. He died in his thirty-second year 637, on the same day that he had once put Octavia to death. The public joy was so great that the common people ran through the city with caps on their heads. Still, some did not fail, for a long time, to decorate his tomb with spring and summer flowers. Sometimes they placed his image on the rostrum, dressed in official robes; at other times, they issued proclamations in his name, as if he were still alive and about to return to Rome to take vengeance on his enemies. Vologesus, king of the Parthians, when sending ambassadors to the senate to renew their alliance with Rome, earnestly requested that the memory of Nero be duly honored. And, finally, when twenty years later, at about the time I was a young man 638, someone of obscure birth pretended to be Nero, the Parthians gave him such a warm welcome (382) that he gained much support, and they only reluctantly gave him up.

* * * * * * *

Although no law had ever established a formal method for transferring imperial power, the practice of adoption suggested the intent to pass it down by lineage. By hereditary succession, Britannicus, the son of Claudius, was the natural heir to the throne, but was outmaneuvered by his stepmother, who succeeded in securing it for her own son, Nero. Since the time of Augustus, it had been the practice for each new ruler to begin his reign with actions designed to gain popularity, no matter how much they later degenerated from these promising beginnings. Whether this was purely political strategy, or whether their natures were not yet corrupted by the intoxication of unlimited power, is uncertain; but the excesses into which they all later plunged make it hard to excuse any except, perhaps, Claudius from the charge of deep moral corruption. The wickedness of Tiberius was known to his own mother, Livia; Caligula’s depravity was apparent to those around him from childhood; Claudius’s nature seemed more weak than vicious; but Nero’s inherent wickedness was recognized early by his tutor, Seneca. Even so, this emperor began his reign in a way that won public approval. Of all the Roman emperors before him, he seems to have been particularly corrupted by wicked favorites who encouraged his vices to further their own interests. Among them was Tigellinus, who finally received the punishment he so clearly deserved.

The reigns after Augustus offered scenes of cruelty and horror, but Nero’s tenure stands out for the shocking act of an emperor plotting the murder of his own mother.

Julia Agrippina, daughter of Germanicus, married Domitius Aenobarbus, and they had Nero. After Messalina’s death, Agrippina, then a widow, vied for marriage with her uncle Claudius—competing with Lollia Paulina, a woman of beauty and intrigue and former wife to C. Caesar. Both women had strong backing, but Agrippina’s influence with the emperor’s favorites, as well as their family connection, secured her victory; their notorious marriage was solemnized at the palace. Whether her motivation was personal ambition or simply to secure the imperial succession for her son is uncertain, but there is no doubt she poisoned Claudius for this purpose. She also plotted against L. Silanus and succeeded in having his brother, Junius Silanus, killed by poison as well. She was amply gifted by nature, but was scheming, violent, imperious, and willing to sacrifice every principle of virtue for supreme power or pleasure. Like Livia, she was ambitious for her son; unlike Livia, she suffered even greater ingratitude from an unnatural son and a murderer. She is said to have left memoirs, which Tacitus used when writing his Annals.

In this reign, the conquest of the Britons remained the main military focus, and Suetonius Paulinus was given command of the Roman army for their subjugation. The island of Mona, now Anglesey, was the chief seat of the Druids. He decided to begin operations by attacking this center of superstition, where the Britons sought refuge as their last holdout of liberty. The locals tried, by both force and religious terror, to block his landing. Druids and women, with soldiers, gathered on the shore, running in wild disorder with flaming torches and uttering dreadful cries. The Romans were at first thrown into confusion, but Suetonius encouraged his soldiers, who attacked, routed the enemy, and burned the Druids in the very fires prepared for the Romans, destroying sacred groves and altars as well. With this victory over the Britons’ religion, Suetonius hoped soon to conquer the people. During his absence, however, the Britons rose up, led by Boadicea, queen of the Iceni, who had been grossly abused by Roman tribunes, and managed to drive out the hated invaders from their settlements. Suetonius rushed to (384) defend London—which was already a flourishing Roman colony—but on arrival, saw that defending it would put his army at great risk. London was thus burned to the ground, and the Romans and all other residents, about seventy thousand people, were slaughtered without distinction, the Britons determined to force a total evacuation. Suetonius revenged this massacre in a decisive battle where eighty thousand Britons reportedly died; afterwards, Boadicea, rather than suffer capture, took poison and died. Suetonius was withdrawn as the general in Britain, his harsh tactics having enraged the population; Petronius Turpilianus replaced him, followed by Trebellius Maximus and Vettius Bolanus. These subsequent commanders maintained only the already-conquered parts of Britain through diplomatic governing.

While these events occurred in Britain, Nero exhibited such extremes of behavior in Rome and the provinces as almost defy belief. At one time, he entered chariot races as a competitor; at another, he vied with common musicians on stage; by day, he indulged publicly among the lowest prostitutes and vilest men; by night, he and his companions pillaged the peaceful streets of Rome itself; he polluted homes, the palace, and the streets with awful lust or bloodshed; then, as a climax, he set fire to Rome and sang for joy as he watched it burn. No other figure from history can compare with this emperor, who combined the worst vices with outrageous vanity, suffered from the lowest degradation yet was possessed by the most extreme—and misguided—ambition. His life was a constant display of lust, greed, violence, cruelty, and folly. As Tacitus observed, “Nero, after the murder of many illustrious persons, showed an intent to wipe out virtue itself.”

Nero’s reign was also infamous for the savage persecutions of Christians throughout the empire. The emperor’s native cruelty was spurred on by both prejudice and the interests of the pagan priesthood.

\(385\) Nero even falsely blamed them for burning Rome, and vented his rage on them with tortures unrivaled in history. Some were clothed in the skins of wild beasts and torn apart by dogs; others were crucified or set alight to serve as torches at night. Nero opened his gardens for these displays, and presented Circus games by this dreadful illumination. Sometimes they were coated with wax and other flammable materials, then impaled with a sharp stake under the chin to make them stand upright, and burned alive to light the night for the crowds.

With Nero, as Suetonius notes, the race of the Caesars ended—a dynasty made illustrious by the first two emperors, but disgraced by those who followed. Julius Caesar’s despotism, though proud and harsh, was also generous and humane; Augustus, except for a few incidents of revenge, ruled mildly and graciously; but the reigns of Tiberius, Caligula, and Nero (excluding Claudius for part of this criticism) were marked by the most shameless licentiousness and abuse of power. The most depraved lust, luxury, greed, and cruelty were the trademarks of these capricious tyrants. Experience now thoroughly discredited Augustus’s claim to have introduced Rome’s ideal government; and even if he had restored the republic, the nation would likely have soon been torn by fresh civil wars. The morals of the people had grown too corrupt to be checked by elected, temporary magistrates. The Romans were rushing toward a time when severe corruption and its accompanying weakness would leave them easy prey for outside invaders.

Yet imperial tyranny was not the only burden afflicting people during these miserable years; patrician greed worked alongside imperial plundering to deepen the nation’s suffering. Senators, even in the later years of the republic, had become openly corrupt in their administration of justice; under the emperors, the abuses became even worse. Now as dependent as any other Roman citizens on the imperial power, their sense of duty and (386) honor vanished along with their old privileges. Deprived of the lucrative provincial appointments they once had by election in the republic, they sought to make up their lost income by shameless bribery in court. Every source of national happiness and prosperity was destroyed; property became insecure; all work was discouraged, and the love of country that had once been the soul of Rome was almost completely extinguished.

It is a notable aspect, matching the general singularity of the current reign, that among the few writers who flourished during it—and whose works have survived to posterity—two died by the command of the emperor, and the third died from indignation at his conduct. These unfortunate victims were Seneca, Petronius Arbiter, and Lucan.

SENECA was born about six years before the Christian era and showed early signs of remarkable talent. His father, who had moved from Corduba to Rome, was a scholarly man who particularly enjoyed declamation. He instructed his son in this art and arranged for him to study philosophy under the most celebrated stoics of the era. As a young man, Seneca adopted the tenets of the Pythagorean school and strictly avoided eating animal flesh, until Tiberius, having threatened to punish some Jews and Egyptians who refused certain foods, convinced Seneca’s father to persuade him to abandon Pythagorean abstinence. Seneca demonstrated considerable talent as an eloquent speaker. However, fearing the jealousy of Caligula, who aspired to similar rhetorical excellence, he wisely abandoned that pursuit and began seeking honors and offices in the state. He eventually obtained the position of quaestor. While serving in this office, he was accused of having a scandalous affair with Julia Livia, prompting him to leave Rome and resulting in his banishment by Emperor Claudius to Corsica.

After Claudius married Agrippina, Seneca was recalled from his exile, which had lasted nearly eight years, and was appointed to supervise the education of Nero, now set to become heir to the throne. As Nero’s tutor, Seneca appears to have fulfilled his role with skill and integrity; although his enemies later accused him of initiating Nero into the same vices that would disgrace his reign. Had he truly been guilty of such corrupt teaching, it seems unlikely he would have so quickly lost favor with the emperor. It is more reasonable to suppose that Seneca’s disapproval of Nero’s behavior was the true cause of Nero’s later hostility toward him—a hostility that would prove fatal. At that profligate court, Seneca’s distinguished merit and virtue naturally attracted enemies. He was accused of carrying on a criminal correspondence with Agrippina during Claudius’s lifetime; but the main source of this slander was Suilius, who had himself been exiled from Rome at Seneca’s urging. Seneca was also charged with amassing enormous wealth, building magnificent houses, and creating beautiful gardens during his four years as Nero’s tutor. Seneca saw this accusation as a prelude to his downfall; to avoid it if possible, he offered to surrender the wealth and property he had gained at court and requested permission from Nero to retire into scholarly seclusion. Nero, hiding his true intentions, denied this request; so Seneca, to avoid arousing further suspicion, stayed at home for some time, claiming ill health.

When the conspiracy of Piso broke out, involving several leading senators, the informant Natalis mentioned Seneca’s name as an accomplice. However, there is no convincing evidence that Seneca had any knowledge of the conspiracy. According to Natalis’s testimony, Piso had complained that he never saw Seneca, and Seneca had replied that it was not in their common interest to meet often. Seneca also said he was ill and that his own survival depended on Piso’s. Nero, though, eager for an excuse to satisfy his own jealous resentment, sent Seneca an order to take his own life. When the messenger delivered the emperor’s command, Seneca was dining with his wife Paulina and two friends. He received the news with philosophical calm—even with a kind of joy—remarking that such an “honor” might long have been expected from a man who had killed all his friends and murdered his own mother. His only request was to dispose of his possessions as he saw fit; this was denied him. Turning to his grieving friends, he told them that though he could not leave them his worldly goods, he would at least leave them his example—a life of innocence they could emulate to achieve lasting honor. He reproached their tears and lamentations, asking if they had not learned yet how to bear the blows of fate and tyranny.

He tried to soothe his wife’s emotions with philosophical comfort; and when she declared her intention to die with him, he told her he was glad to see his example followed with such courage. Both had their veins opened at the same time, but since Nero’s order extended only to Seneca, Paulina’s life was spared. According to some sources, she was not unhappy to be prevented from carrying out her rash resolution. As Seneca’s veins bled slowly, he had the chance in his final moments to display a philosophical courage like that of Socrates. During this solemn time, his conversation was dignified and composed. To hasten his end, he drank a dose of poison; when this failed, he instructed his servants to place him in a warm bath to increase the bleeding. This, too, was ineffective, and as the soldiers pressed for the completion of their orders, Seneca was moved to a stove and suffocated by steam. He met his fate on April 12, in the sixty-fifth year of the Christian era, at the age of fifty-three. His body was burned and his ashes buried privately, according to his will made while still in Nero’s favor.

Seneca’s writings are numerous and diverse. His first work, addressed to Novacus, is on Anger and consists of three books. After giving a vivid description of this passion, he discusses many questions about it, strongly argues against its usefulness (contrary to the peripatetics), and recommends restraint, supporting his view with many thoughtful points. This treatise can be seen as a philosophical expansion on the lines from Horace:

Ira furor brevis est: animum rege; qui, nisi paret,  
 Imperat: hunc fraenis, hunc tu compesce catena.  
 Epist. I. ii.

Anger’s a fitful madness: reign thy mind,  
 Subdue the tyrant, and in fetters bind,  
 Or be thyself the slave.

The next treatise is on Consolation, written to his mother, Helvia, during his exile. He tells her he bears his banishment with courage and encourages her to do the same. He notes that, for himself, (389) change of place, poverty, shame, and contempt are not real evils; that her worries stem either from losing his protection or missing his company, and he gives several relevant observations on both. Bound with this treatise are some epigrams on Seneca’s banishment, but it’s uncertain whether he wrote them himself.

Immediately following is another consolatory work, addressed to Claudius’s freedman Polybius, perhaps named after the historian. In this fragmentary piece, the author tries to comfort Polybius over the recent death of his brother. The sentiments are fitting for their purpose, but the text is mixed with such excessive flattery of the imperial servant that it diminishes the author’s dignity—likely motivated by Seneca’s hope of being recalled from exile through Polybius’s influence.

A fourth consolatory treatise is addressed to Marcia, a respected and wealthy lady, the daughter of Cremutius Cordus, whose death had caused her deep distress. Besides providing numerous arguments for consolation, Seneca offers her many examples to imitate, so she might overcome a grief rooted in overly keen sensitivity. The subject is thoughtfully pursued, with occasional touches of gentle flattery suitable for his correspondent.

These consolatory works are followed by a treatise on Providence, demonstrating that the author held very sound and philosophical views on the topic. Seneca argues that Providence must exist based on the regularity and stability seen in the universe, yet his main point is to address why—if Providence exists—good people suffer evils. The argument is well conducted, with many insightful points and forceful logic, defending the wisdom and goodness of the Almighty in a manner consistent with the best ideas of natural religion.

The next treatise, on Tranquillity of Mind, was probably written soon after Seneca’s return from exile. Though somewhat disordered in structure, it contains many worthwhile observations and is a valuable work.

\(390\) Then comes a discourse on the Constancy of a Wise Man. Some have regarded this as part of the preceding treatise, but they are clearly distinct. It is one of Seneca’s finest works, both in thought and style, offering a wealth of moral lessons intended to strengthen the mind against unexpected misfortunes.

We next find a tract on Clemency, in two books, addressed to Nero. This seems to have been written at the start of Nero’s reign, and Seneca offers the emperor high praise—which, at that time, may have been deserved. The work contains many valid observations, relevant to all, and had Nero heeded Seneca’s advice, it might have saved him from the acts of cruelty and other excesses that have made his name infamous.

The next piece is on the Shortness of Life, addressed to Paulinus. In this excellent treatise, Seneca argues that complaints about life’s brevity are misplaced; it is people themselves who make life short, by wasting it in idleness or unworthy pursuits. He criticizes indolence, luxury, and all pointless activities, insisting that the best use of time is to pursue wisdom, which can make life sufficiently long.

Next is a discourse on a Happy Life, addressed to Gallio. Here, Seneca seems to be defending himself against those who criticized his wealth and lifestyle. He asserts that happiness comes only from living according to virtue, but that a virtuous life is entirely compatible with possessing wealth if it comes one’s way. Seneca defends himself with skill and strong reasoning. Much of his argument is not only persuasive but offers admirable reflections on the moral responsibilities of a good life. The ending, though, differs greatly in style from the rest and is clearly not authentic.

Following the preceding is a work on the Retirement of a Wise Man. The opening of the text is missing, but later Seneca discusses a question much debated among the Stoics and Epicureans: whether the wise should involve themselves in public affairs. Both schools typically held that reclusion was wisest, though they differed on the conditions for departing from such retirement—either when justified, or when there was no compelling reason not to. Seneca views both positions as insufficient for promoting public and private happiness—an objective he maintains should be the ultimate aim of moral philosophy.

The last of the author’s discourses, addressed to Aebucius, is on Benefits and continues through seven books. He begins by lamenting the widespread ingratitude among people, a vice he harshly criticizes. After some initial thoughts on the nature of benefits, he moves on to discuss how, and to whom, they ought to be given. Most of these books are dedicated to solving abstract questions about benefits, in the style of Chrysippus. The author presents the arguments on both sides explicitly, and from a thorough consideration of them, draws rational conclusions.

The Epistles of Seneca consist of one hundred and twenty-four letters, all focused on moral topics. His Natural Questions span seven books, where he gathers the theories of Aristotle and other ancient writers. These are followed by an eccentric piece on the death of Caligula. The rest of his works include seven Persuasive Discourses, five books of Controversies, and ten books containing Extracts of Declamations.

Considering the sheer volume of Seneca’s writings, it’s clear that, despite the luxurious life he is reported to have lived, he was deeply dedicated to literature. This inclination was likely strengthened during his nearly eight years of exile on the island of Corsica, where he was largely isolated from every other form of amusement suitable to a cultivated mind. Yet, no matter how splendid Seneca’s household may have been, it seems unlikely he gave himself up to luxury to any kind of immoral excess. His honorable and important position at the Roman court could not help but be profitable—not only because of the extravagant imperial spending common at the time, but also because of the many unexpected benefits his wide influence and patronage could naturally bring. Seneca was born into a respectable family, moved in close circles with people of high rank, and if, during his service to Nero, he amassed a large fortune, no blame could rightfully be attached to his maintaining an elegant way of living. The accusation of luxury was cast at him from two sources: first, by Nero’s dissolute companions, who used such an example as an excuse for their own extreme excesses; (392) and second, by those who envied his wealth and status. However, this charge rests only on vague claims and is contradicted by every reasonable consideration for evaluating human character. It appears completely at odds with his habit of literary activity, with the strong morals he consistently advocates, and with the esteem in which he was held by a wide circle of acquaintances as both philosopher and moralist.

Seneca’s writings have been criticized almost as much as his lifestyle, though in both respects he deserves some leniency for following the customs of his time. He pays more attention to small stylistic embellishments than writers of the Augustan age, and the didactic tone he often adopts can make his work seem sententious. Yet his ideas are not weakened by decoration, nor are they made obscure by brevity. He is as rich in meaningful advice as he is in literary flourish. Seneca has been accused of putting down earlier writers to make himself seem more noteworthy; but as far as his works show, this accusation is based more on what he leaves unsaid than any direct claim. He does not try to make his reputation by presenting radically different ideas, and while he often omits the names of illustrious authors, he wisely makes use of their most valuable philosophical contributions. Overall, he is an author whose principles can be adopted not only safely but also to great advantage, and his writings deserve more regard than they have yet received in the literary world.

Besides his prose, Seneca also wrote some tragedies. The Medea, the Troas, and the Hippolytus are attributed to him. His father is said to have composed the Hercules Furens, Thyestes, Agamemnon, and Hercules Oetaeus. The three remaining plays—the Thebais, Oedipus, and Octavia—which are usually published together with the seven already named, are believed to be the works of other authors, though it is not known who. All of these pieces are written in an elegant style; the plots and characters are handled with attention to realism and probability. However, none of them is so powerful in terms of tragic emotion as to arouse any strong feeling in the reader.

PETRONIUS was a Roman knight, apparently of significant wealth. In his youth, he seems to have devoted himself to refined literature, acquiring both good taste and elegant composition. Early introduced to the entertainments (393) of high society, he developed a habit of indulgence that made him an agreeable companion to the frivolous and the wealthy. The court of Claudius, under the sway for some time of Messalina, was then the center of pleasure, and here Petronius certainly stood out. More refined than purely sensual, he joined the court’s amusements rather than its vices. Seeking to break up what had become a monotonous lifestyle, he accepted the proconsulship of Bithynia, where he served with great credit. Upon his return to Rome, Nero, who had succeeded Claudius, made him consul as a reward for his service. This new honor gave him frequent, easy access to the emperor, and their relationship soon grew into one of friendship and mutual esteem, partly thanks to the elegant entertainments Petronius often provided. Before long, this sophisticated pleasure-seeker became such a favorite at court that nothing was considered enjoyable unless it had Petronius’s approval. The influence he gained as an arbiter of all things related to refined pleasure earned him the title Arbiter elegantiarum. Things continued in this way as long as the emperor stayed within reasonable limits, and Petronius managed Nero’s entertainment—planning shows, games, comedies, music, feasts, and everything else that could make leisure hours delightful. He also made every effort to keep the amusements he arranged as innocuous as possible, to prevent Nero from seeking pleasures that might prove harmful both to morals and the state. Unfortunately, Nero’s naturally corrupt nature eventually asserted itself, and he changed his behavior—not just in governing the empire but in his personal life, listening to advisors other than Petronius, and giving full rein to his passions, which eventually led to his ruin. Nero’s new favorite was Tigellinus, a man of thoroughly immoral character, who stopped at nothing to satisfy the emperor’s wildest desires, regardless of decency or virtue. During this period, Petronius expressed his indignation in the satire known as the Satyricon. Yet, his withdrawal from court did not protect him from Tigellinus’s schemes, who worked relentlessly to destroy the man he had supplanted in Nero’s favor. He convinced Nero that Petronius was too close to Scevinus to not be involved in Piso’s conspiracy, and to back up this claim, had one of Petronius’s slaves, who had been secretly bribed, testify against his master while the emperor watched. Following this, they imprisoned most of Petronius’s household servants to deprive him of any means of defending himself. Nero leapt at the chance to eliminate a man whose present-day morals he found so objectionable, and soon issued orders for Petronius’s arrest. But since it took some time to decide whether to execute such a prominent man without more concrete evidence, Petronius, disgusted at having to live under the power of such a vile and unpredictable tyrant, chose to die. Like Seneca, he had his veins opened, but closed them again briefly so he could enjoy the company of his friends in his final hours. He reportedly asked them to entertain him, not with philosophical consolation or talk of the soul’s immortality, but with pleasant stories and light poetry. Rejecting the servile example of those who, though condemned by Nero, still named him their heir and filled their wills with flattery toward the tyrant and his favorites, he broke a goblet of precious stones—his usual drinking cup—so that Nero, whom he knew would seize it, might not enjoy it after his death. As the only fitting gift for such a prince, he sent Nero his Satyricon, sealed and written especially against him, and then destroyed his signet, so it could not later become grounds for accusation against whoever might have it after his death.

The Satyricon of Petronius is one of the most remarkable works in Latin literature. Unique in its character and with no parallel in ancient writings, some have suspected it of being a later forgery from the time of the Renaissance. This view, however, has little support and goes against substantial evidence of its authenticity. Others, conceding that it was written during Nero’s time, have questioned the author’s intent and accused him of deeply immoral motives. Some of the scenes, events, and characters are so unusual, that without some specific allegorical purpose, the descriptions would seem fanciful and, despite their wit, the work would have been forgotten. Yet history confirms that in Nero’s court, the excesses described by Petronius were indeed realized (395) to a degree that validates his depiction. The unrivaled character of Trimalchio—portraying a man sunk in utter debauchery—was crafted to represent Nero himself; and we are told that there once were medals of that emperor inscribed, C. Nero August. Imp., with Trimalchio on the reverse. The various characters are distinct and convincingly portrayed. Never has such unrestrained depiction been matched with such delicate artistry. The satire’s power comes not from bitterness but from the comic, yet authentic, representation of the personalities involved. That Nero recognized the truth of these portrayals is obvious from his anger on discovering how well Petronius knew his vices. After suspecting all possible informants, he finally settled on a senator’s wife named Silia, who had been part of his revels and a close friend of Petronius. She was immediately banished. Among the miscellany in this work are poems of elegant style, including one on the civil war between Caesar and Pompey that is especially vivid and lively.

Although poetry seemed mostly dormant from the time of Augustus onward, Petronius Arbiter, who chronicled life at Rome during Nero’s reign, shows that poetry stayed a popular pursuit among Romans—a tendency, in fact, that was almost national.

————Ecce inter pocula quaerunt  
 Romulidae saturi, quid dia poemata narrent.—Persius, Sat. i. 30.

——Nay, more! Our nobles, gorged, and swilled with wine,  
 Call o’er the banquet for a lay divine!—Gifford.

It became a fashionable pastime, a kind of exercise, where the main aim was to compose verses on the spot. These were presented publicly and ostentatiously by their authors, whose ambition relied on the ability to improvise. A favorable judgment from the audience, no matter how prejudiced and often won by intrigue or bribery, was taken by these frivolous contenders as a genuine literary verdict.

The practice of reciting poetry publicly, seeking the judgment of listeners—a tradition for which Augustus had built the Temple of Apollo—was well-suited to improving taste and encouraging talent; but it had become, by this point, an avenue for the general decline of poetry. Barbarisms in (396) language and corrupted taste naturally followed, as the crowd’s opinion was either ignorant or for sale, and public approval too often endorsed the rough drafts of hasty composition. Still, even during this period, some strived for true poetic achievement, beyond the shallow pursuits of their contemporaries. Among these were Lucan and Persius.

LUCAN was the son of Annaeus Mela, brother to Seneca the philosopher. He was born in Corduba, the family’s original home, but moved early to Rome, where his talent and his uncle’s support won him Nero’s favor; the emperor made him an augur and quaestor before he had reached the traditional age. Eager to display his abilities, Lucan imprudently entered into a contest with the emperor. Nero chose the tragic fate of Niobe as his topic, while Lucan chose Orpheus. Lucan’s easy victory in the competition stirred Nero’s jealousy, prompting the emperor to undermine him with daily insults. Eventually, Lucan’s resentment led him to join Piso’s conspiracy to assassinate the tyrant. The plot was discovered, and Lucan knew he could expect no pardon: following Seneca’s example, he had his veins opened while sitting in a warm bath, and died reciting these lines from his Pharsalia with great emphasis:

Scinditur avulsus; nec sicut vulnere sanguis  
 Emicuit lentus: ruptis cadit undique venis;

Discursusque animae diversa in membra meantis  
Interceptus aquis, nullius, vita perempti  
Est tanta dimissa via.—Lib. iii. 638.

——Asunder flies the man.  
No single wound the gaping rupture seems,  
Where trickling crimson flows in tender streams;  
But from an opening horrible and wide

A thousand vessels pour the bursting tide;  
At once the winding channel’s course was broken,  
Where wandering life her mazy journey took.—Rowe.

Some authors have claimed that he showed cowardice at the hour of death and, to save himself from punishment, accused his mother of being involved in the conspiracy. However, this detail is not mentioned by other writers, who report instead that he died with philosophical courage. He was only twenty-six years old at the time.

Lucan had barely reached puberty when he wrote a poem on the contest between Hector and Achilles. He also composed in his youth a poem about the burning of Rome; but his only surviving work is the Pharsalia, written about the civil war between Caesar and Pompey. This poem, consisting of ten books, remains unfinished, and its reputation has suffered more than that of any other work of antiquity. In the structure of the poem, the author follows the various events of the civil war, beginning his narrative at Caesar’s crossing of the Rubicon. He does not invoke the muses or involve any gods in the struggle, but tries to maintain an epic dignity through the power of his sentiments and vivid descriptions. The horrors of civil war and the significance of a contest destined to determine the fate of Rome and the empire are conveyed with varied imagery and striking energy. In the depiction of scenes and the recounting of heroic deeds, the author shows a strong and lively imagination; while in sections appealing to reason or emotion, he is bold, figurative, and animated. Though he tends too much toward amplification and risks exhausting the reader with lengthiness, his work is consistently passionate, elevated, forceful, and often brilliant. His verse lacks the smoothness found in Virgil's writing, and his language is often complex and technically intricate; yet, despite these flaws, his work contains many beautiful passages and demonstrates a level of merit rarely seen in poets as young as twenty-six—the age at which he died.

PERSIUS was born at Volaterrae, into an equestrian family, around the beginning of the Christian era. His father died when he was six, leaving him to the care of his mother, for whom and for his sisters he expresses the deepest affection. At age twelve, he moved to Rome, where, after studying grammar and rhetoric under different teachers, he placed himself under the instruction of Annaeus Cornutus, a highly regarded Stoic philosopher of the day. The friendship between him and his teacher was so strong that, at his death in his twenty-ninth year, he willed Cornutus a generous sum of money and his library. Cornutus, however, accepted only the books and returned the money to Persius’s sisters.

Priscian, Quintilian, and other ancient writers refer to Persius’s satires as forming a single book without divisions. They have since generally been divided into six different satires, though some count only five. The topics of these works include: the vanity of poets of his time; young people’s reluctance to pursue moral learning; ignorance and rashness in politics, especially alluding to Nero’s rule; the fifth satire demonstrates that the wise person is also free—a discussion in which the author echoes the arguments of Horace on the same theme. The final satire of Persius attacks avarice. In the fifth, we find an exquisite address to Cornutus, whom the author praises for his kindness and special teaching skill. The following lines not only show how diligently teacher and student labored together all day in the pursuit of moral understanding, but also present a more pleasant image of domestic comfort and philosophical companionship than one might expect from a strict Stoic's household:

Tecum etenim longos memini consumere soles,  
Et tecum primas epulis decerpere noctes.  
Unum opus, et requiem pariter disponimus ambo:  
Atque verecunda laxamus feria mensa.—Sat. v. Can I forget how many a summer’s day,  
Spent in your converse, stole, unmarked, away?  
Or how, while listening with increased delight,  
I snatched from feasts the earlier hours of night?—Gifford.

The satires of Persius are written in a free, argumentative, and questioning style; their sentiments are as sound as those of Horace, but delivered with derision rather than with the inimitable playful wit of that celebrated writer. They are often regarded as obscure, but this perception arises more from unfamiliarity with the people and customs referenced than from any real complexity of language or style. His verse is melodious; and it is worth noting, as with other Latin authors, that although Persius was known for his virtue and modesty, there are a few passages in the fourth satire which cannot be translated decently. Such was the frankness of Roman expression, in words that later refinement has discarded.

Another poet from this time was FABRICIUS VEIENTO, who wrote a harsh satire against the priests of his era, and another (399) against senators for corruption in their judicial roles. Neither work survives, but he was exiled by Nero for the latter.

Also prominent was the lyric poet CAESIUS BASSUS, to whom Persius addresses his sixth satire. He was considered, after Horace, the best Roman lyric poet, but only a handful of insignificant fragments survive.

To these poets must be added POMPONIUS SECUNDUS, a man of high rank in the military, who celebrated a triumph after defeating a tribe of Germanic barbarians. He wrote several tragedies that Quintilian considered excellent compositions.

## SERGIUS SULPICIUS GALBA.

### (400)

I. The line of the Caesars ended with Nero, an event foretold by various portents, two of which were particularly noteworthy. In earlier times, when Livia, after marrying Augustus, was visiting her villa at Veii, an eagle flew by and dropped a hen with a laurel sprig in its mouth into her lap, just as she caught it. Livia ordered that the hen be cared for and the laurel planted. The hen produced such a large brood that the villa is still called the Villa of the Hens. The laurel grove flourished so well that the Caesars took the boughs and crowns they wore at their triumphs from there. They also had a tradition of planting new laurels on that spot immediately after each triumph; and it was noticed that shortly before each prince’s death, the tree he had planted would die. But in Nero’s final year, the entire laurel grove died to the roots, and all the hens perished. Around the same time, lightning struck the temple of the Caesars, causing all the statues’ heads to fall off at once, and knocking the sceptre from Augustus’s hands.

II. Nero was succeeded by Galba, who was not in any way related to the Caesars, but was certainly of very noble descent, from a great and ancient family; for he always included among his titles on the bases of his statues his descent from Q. Catulus Capitolinus. When he became emperor, he displayed the images of his ancestors in the palace hall; according to their inscriptions, his paternal line traced back to Jupiter, and his maternal line to Pasiphae, the wife of Minos.

III. A full account of the entire family would be lengthy. Therefore, I will briefly mention only the branch from which he was descended. The origin of the Sulpicii family’s Galba surname is uncertain. Some say it was given because he set fire to a Spanish city, after long besieging it, with torches soaked in galbanum gum; others believe it came from using this gum wrapped in wool to treat a lingering illness; others think it was because he was extremely fat—a body type called Galba in Gaulish; or, conversely, because he was very thin, like the insects called Galbae that breed in certain oaks. Sergius Galba, a consular-ranked man famed for eloquence, brought distinction to the family. History tells us that as pro-praetor of Spain, he treacherously killed thirty thousand Lusitanians, sparking the Viriathus war. His grandson, angered at Julius Caesar for being denied the consulship, joined Cassius and Brutus in the plot against Caesar and was condemned under the Pedian law. From him descended Galba’s grandfather and father. The grandfather was more notable for scholarship than for any political achievements, never rising above praetor, but published a substantial and interesting history. His father became consul: he was short and hump-backed, but a fair orator and diligent advocate. He married twice: first to Mummia Achaica, daughter of Catulus and great-granddaughter of Lucius Mummius, conqueror of Corinth; and second to Livia Ocellina, a wealthy and beautiful woman, who, it is thought, pursued him for his noble heritage. It is said she was encouraged to continue her suit by an incident showing his sincerity: upon her insistence, he once stripped off his toga to show his deformity while they were alone, so she would not think he was deceiving her. He had two sons with Achaica, Caius and Sergius. The elder, Caius, squandered much of his fortune, then withdrew from public life, and after being forbidden by Tiberius to stand for proconsulship during his year, ended his own life.

IV. The emperor Sergius Galba was born in the consulship of M. Valerius Messala and Cn. Lentulus, on the ninth day before the calends of January, at a villa on a hill near Terracina, on the left side of the road to Fundi. After being adopted by his step-mother, he took the name Livius with the surname Ocella, and changed his praenomen, later using Lucius instead of Sergius until he became emperor. It is well known that when he once visited Augustus along with other boys his age, Augustus pinched his cheek and said, “And you, boy, too, will taste our imperial power.” Tiberius, being told that he would rule as emperor, but late in life, remarked, “Let him live, then, since that does not concern me!” When his grandfather was offering sacrifice to ward off an omen from lightning, the entrails of the sacrifice were seized from his hand by an eagle and carried into an acorn-laden oak. The soothsayers predicted that the family would hold imperial power—but not for a long time; at this, he joked, “Yes, when a mule gives birth.” When Galba first declared against Nero, nothing gave him more confidence of victory than a mule foaling at that very time. While others saw this as an ominous prodigy, he alone considered it a fortunate sign, recalling the sacrifice and his grandfather’s words. When he came of age, he dreamed that the goddess Fortune said to him, “I wait, weary, at your door; unless let in quickly, I’ll fall into the hands of your first pursuer.” When he awoke and the door was opened, he found a bronze statue of Fortune, more than a cubit high, right at the threshold. He took it to Tusculum, where he spent summers, and dedicated it in a room of his house, ever after honoring it with monthly rites and a yearly vigil. Even as a young man, he maintained an old, now forgotten family tradition (no longer observed elsewhere): twice a day, morning and evening, all his freedmen and slaves would gather to greet him formally.

V. Amongst other liberal studies, he applied himself to the law. He married Lepida, by whom he had two sons; but the mother and children all dying, he continued a widower; nor could he be prevailed upon to marry again, not even Agrippina herself, at that time left a widow by the death of Domitius, who had employed all her blandishments to allure him to her embraces, while he was a married man; insomuch that Lepida’s mother, when in company with several married women, rebuked her for it, and even went so far as to cuff her. Most of all, he courted the empress Livia, by whose favour, while she was living, he made a considerable figure, and narrowly missed being enriched by the will which she left at her death; in which she distinguished him from the rest of the legatees, by a legacy of fifty millions of sesterces. But because the sum was expressed in figures, and not in words at length, it was reduced by her heir, Tiberius, to five hundred thousand: and even this he never received.

VI. Filling the great offices before the age required for it by law, during his praetorship, at the celebration of games in honour of the goddess Flora, he presented the new spectacle of elephants walking upon ropes. He was then governor of the province of Aquitania for near a year, and soon afterwards took the consulship in the usual course, and held it for six months. It so happened that he succeeded L. Domitius, the father of Nero, and was succeeded by Salvius Otho, father to the emperor of that name; so that his holding it between the sons of these two men, looked like a presage of his future advancement to the empire. Being appointed by Caius Caesar to supersede Gaetulicus in his command, the day after his joining the legions, he put a stop to their plaudits in a public spectacle, by issuing an order, “That they should keep their hands under their cloaks.” Immediately upon which, the following verse became very common in the camp:

Disce, miles, militare: Galba est, non Gaetulicus.

Learn, soldier, now in arms to use your hands,  
‘Tis Galba, not Gaetulicus, commands.

With equal strictness, he would allow of no petitions for leave of absence from the camp. He hardened the soldiers, both old and young, by constant exercise; and having quickly reduced within their own limits the barbarians who had made inroads into Gaul, upon Caius’s coming into Germany, he so far recommended himself and his army to that emperor’s approbation, that, amongst the innumerable troops drawn from all the provinces of the empire, none met with higher commendation, or greater rewards from him. He likewise distinguished himself by heading an escort, with a shield in his hand, and running at the side of the emperor’s chariot twenty miles together.

VII. Upon the news of Caius’s death, though many earnestly pressed him to lay hold of that opportunity of seizing the empire, he chose rather to be quiet. On this account, he was in great favour with Claudius, and being received into the number of his friends, stood so high in his good opinion, that the expedition to Britain was for some time suspended, because he was suddenly seized with a slight indisposition. He governed Africa, as pro-consul, for two years; being chosen out of the regular course to restore order in the province, which was in great disorder from civil dissensions, and the alarms of the barbarians. His administration was distinguished by great strictness and equity, even in matters of small importance. A soldier upon some expedition being charged with selling, in a great scarcity of corn, a bushel of wheat, which was all he had left, for a hundred denarii, he forbad him to be relieved by any body, when he came to be in want himself; and accordingly he died of famine. When sitting in judgment, a cause being brought before him about some beast of burden, the ownership of which was claimed by two persons; the evidence being slight on both sides, and it being difficult to come at the truth, he ordered the beast to be led to a pond at which he had used to be watered, with his head muffled up, and the covering being there removed, that he should be the property of the person whom he followed of his own accord, after drinking.

VIII. For his achievements, both at this time in Africa, and formerly in Germany, he received the triumphal ornaments, and three sacerdotal appointments, one among The Fifteen, another in the college of Titius, and a third amongst the Augustals; and from that time to the middle of Nero’s reign, he lived for the most part in retirement. He never went abroad so much as to take the air, without a carriage attending him, in which there was a million of sesterces in gold, ready at hand; until at last, at the time he was living in the town of Fundi, the province of Hispania Tarraconensis was offered him. After his arrival in the province, whilst he was sacrificing in a temple, a boy who attended with a censer, became all on a sudden grey-headed. This incident was regarded by some as a token of an approaching revolution in the government, and that an old man would succeed a young one: that is, that he would succeed Nero. And not long after, a thunderbolt falling into a lake in Cantabria, twelve axes were found in it; a manifest sign of the supreme power.

IX. He governed the province during eight years, his administration being of an uncertain and capricious character. At first he was active, vigorous, and indeed excessively severe, in the punishment of offenders. For, a money-dealer having committed some fraud in the way of his business, he cut off his hands, and nailed them to his counter. Another, who had poisoned an orphan, to whom he was guardian, and next heir to the estate, he crucified. On this delinquent imploring the protection of the law, and crying out that he was a Roman citizen, he affected to afford him some alleviation, and to mitigate his punishment, by a mark of honour, ordered a cross, higher than usual, and painted white, to be erected for him. But by degrees he gave himself up to a life of indolence and inactivity, from the fear of giving Nero any occasion of jealousy, and because, as he used to say, “Nobody was obliged to render an account of their leisure hours.” He was holding a court of justice on the circuit at New Carthage, when he received intelligence of the insurrection in Gaul; and while the lieutenant of Aquitania was soliciting his assistance, letters were brought from Vindex, requesting him “to assert the rights of mankind, and put himself at their head to relieve them from the tyranny of Nero.” Without any long demur, he accepted the invitation, from a mixture of fear and hope. For he had discovered that private orders had been sent by Nero to his procurators in the province to get him dispatched; and he was encouraged to the enterprise, as well by several auspices and omens, as by the prophecy of a young woman of good family. The more so, because the priest of Jupiter at Clunia, admonished by a dream, had discovered in the recesses of the temple some verses similar to those in which she had delivered her prophecy. These had also been uttered by a girl under divine inspiration, about two hundred years before. The import of the verses was, “That in time, Spain should give the world a lord and master.”

X. Taking his seat on the tribunal, therefore, as if there was no other business than the manumitting of slaves, he had the effigies of a number of persons who had been condemned and put to death by Nero, set up before him, whilst a noble youth stood by, who had been banished, and whom he had purposely sent for from one of the neighbouring Balearic isles; and lamenting the condition of the times, and being thereupon unanimously saluted by the title of Emperor, he publicly declared himself “only the lieutenant of the senate and people of Rome.” Then shutting the courts, he levied legions and auxiliary troops among the provincials, besides his veteran army consisting of one legion, two wings of horse, and three cohorts. Out of the military leaders most distinguished for age and prudence, he formed a kind of senate, with whom to advise upon all matters of importance, as often as occasion should require. He likewise chose several young men of the equestrian order, who were to be allowed the privilege of wearing the gold ring, and, being called “The Reserve,” should mount guard before his bed-chamber, instead of the legionary soldiers. He likewise issued proclamations throughout the provinces of the empire, exhorting all to rise in arms unanimously, and aid the common cause, by all the ways and means in their power. About the same time, in fortifying a town, which he had pitched upon for a military post, a ring was found, of antique workmanship, in the stone of which was engraved the goddess Victory with a trophy. Presently after, a ship of Alexandria arrived at Dertosa, loaded with arms, without any person to steer it, or so much as a single sailor or passenger on board. From this incident, nobody entertained the least doubt but the war upon which they were entering was just and honourable, and favoured likewise by the gods; when all on a sudden the whole design was exposed to failure. One of the two wings of horse, repenting of the violation of their oath to Nero, attempted to desert him upon his approach to the camp, and were with some difficulty kept in their duty. And some slaves who had been presented to him by a freedman of Nero’s, on purpose to murder him, had like to have killed him as he went through a narrow passage to the bath. Being overheard to encourage one another not to lose the opportunity, they were called to an account concerning it; and recourse being had to the torture, a confession was extorted from them.

XI. These dangers were followed by the death of Vindex, at which being extremely discouraged, as if fortune had quite forsaken him, he had thoughts of putting an end to his own life; but receiving advice by his messengers from Rome that Nero was slain, and that all had taken an oath to him as emperor, he laid aside the title of lieutenant, and took upon him that of Caesar. Putting himself upon his march in his general’s cloak, and a dagger hanging from his neck before his breast, he did not resume the use of the toga, until Nymphidius Sabinus, prefect of the pretorian guards at Rome, with the two lieutenants, Fonteius Capito in Germany, and Claudius Macer in Africa, who opposed his advancement, were all put down.

XII. Rumours of his cruelty and avarice had reached the city before his arrival; such as that he had punished some cities of Spain and Gaul, for not joining him readily, by the imposition of heavy taxes, and some by levelling their walls; and had put to death the governors and procurators with their wives and children: likewise that a golden crown, of fifteen pounds weight, taken out of the temple of Jupiter, with which he was presented by the people of Tarracona, he had melted down, and had exacted from them three ounces which were wanting in the weight. This report of him was confirmed and increased, as soon as he entered the town. For some seamen who had been taken from the fleet, and enlisted among the troops by Nero, he obliged to return to their former condition; but they refusing to comply, and obstinately clinging to the more honourable service under their eagles and standards, he not only dispersed them by a body of horse, but likewise decimated them. He also disbanded a cohort of Germans, which had been formed by the preceding emperors, for their body-guard, and upon many occasions found very faithful; and sent them back into their own country, without giving them any gratuity, pretending that they were more inclined to favour the advancement of Cneius Dolabella, near whose gardens they encamped, than his own. The following ridiculous stories were also related of him; but whether with or without foundation, I know not; such as, that when a more sumptuous entertainment than usual was served up, he fetched a deep groan: that when one of the stewards presented him with an account of his expenses, he reached him a dish of legumes from his table as a reward for his care and diligence; and when Canus, the piper, had played much to his satisfaction, he presented him, with his own hand, five denarii taken out of his pocket.

XIII. His arrival, therefore, in town was not very agreeable to the people; and this appeared at the next public spectacle. For when the actors in a farce began a well-known song,

Venit, io, Simus a villa:  
Lo! Clodpate from his village comes;

all the spectators, with one voice, went on with the rest, repeating and acting the first verse several times over.

XIV. He possessed himself of the imperial power with more favour and authority than he administered it, although he gave many proofs of his being an excellent prince: but these were not so grateful to the people, as his misconduct was offensive. He was governed by three favourites, who, because they lived in the palace, and were constantly about him, obtained the name of his pedagogues. These were Titus Vinius, who had been his lieutenant in Spain, a man of insatiable (410) avarice; Cornelius Laco, who, from an assessor to the prince, was advanced to be prefect of the pretorian guards, a person of intolerable arrogance, as well as indolence; and his freedman Icelus, dignified a little before with the privilege of wearing the gold ring, and the use of the cognomen Martianus, who became a candidate for the highest honour within the reach of any person of the equestrian order 666. He resigned himself so implicitly into the power of those three favourites, who governed in every thing according to the capricious impulse of their vices and tempers, and his authority was so much abused by them, that the tenor of his conduct was not very consistent with itself. At one time, he was more rigorous and frugal, at another, more lavish and negligent, than became a prince who had been chosen by the people, and was so far advanced in years. He condemned some men of the first rank in the senatorian and equestrian orders, upon a very slight suspicion, and without trial. He rarely granted the freedom of the city to any one; and the privilege belonging to such as had three children, only to one or two; and that with great difficulty, and only for a limited time. When the judges petitioned to have a sixth decury added to their number, he not only denied them, but abolished the vacation which had been granted them by Claudius for the winter, and the beginning of the year.

XV. It was thought that he likewise intended to reduce the offices held by senators and men of the equestrian order, to a term of two years’ continuance; and to bestow them only on those who were unwilling to accept them, and had refused them. All the grants of Nero he recalled, saving only the tenth part of them. For this purpose he gave a commission to fifty Roman knights; with orders, that if players or wrestlers had sold what had been formerly given them, it should be exacted from the purchasers, since the others, having, no doubt, spent the money, were not in a condition to pay. But on the other hand, he suffered his attendants and freedmen to sell or give away the revenue of the state, or immunities from taxes, and to punish the innocent, or pardon criminals, at pleasure. Nay, when the Roman people were very clamorous for the punishment of Halotus and Tigellinus, two of the (411) most mischievous amongst all the emissaries of Nero, he protected them, and even bestowed on Halotus one of the best procurations in his disposal. And as to Tigellinus, he even reprimanded the people for their cruelty by a proclamation.

XVI. By this conduct, he incurred the hatred of all orders of the people, but especially of the soldiery. For their commanders having promised them in his name a donative larger than usual, upon their taking the oath to him before his arrival at Rome; he refused to make it good, frequently bragging, “that it was his custom to choose his soldiers, not buy them.” Thus the troops became exasperated against him in all quarters. The pretorian guards he alarmed with apprehensions of danger and unworthy treatment; disbanding many of them occasionally as disaffected to his government, and favourers of Nymphidius. But most of all, the army in Upper Germany was incensed against him, as being defrauded of the rewards due to them for the service they had rendered in the insurrection of the Gauls under Vindex. They were, therefore, the first who ventured to break into open mutiny, refusing upon the calends of January, to take any oath of allegiance, except to the senate; and they immediately dispatched deputies to the pretorian troops, to let them know, “they did not like the emperor who had been set up in Spain,” and to desire that “they would make choice of another, who might meet with the approbation of all the armies.”

XVII. Upon receiving intelligence of this, imagining that he was slighted not so much on account of his age, as for having no children, he immediately singled out of a company of young persons of rank, who came to pay their compliments to him, Piso Frugi Licinianus, a youth of noble descent and great talents, for whom he had before contracted such a regard, that he had appointed him in his will the heir both of his estate and name. Him he now styled his son, and taking him to the camp, adopted him in the presence of the assembled troops, but without making any mention of a donative. This circumstance afforded the better opportunity to Marcus Salvius Otho of accomplishing his object, six days after the adoption.

XVIII. Many remarkable prodigies had happened from the (412) very beginning of his reign, which forewarned him of his approaching fate. In every town through which he passed in his way from Spain to Rome, victims were slain on the right and left of the roads; and one of these, which was a bull, being maddened with the stroke of the axe, broke the rope with which it was tied, and running straight against his chariot, with his fore-feet elevated, bespattered him with blood. Likewise, as he was alighting, one of the guard, being pushed forward by the crowd, had very nearly wounded him with his lance. And upon his entering the city and, afterwards, the palace, he was welcomed with an earthquake, and a noise like the bellowing of cattle. These signs of ill-fortune were followed by some that were still more apparently such. Out of all his treasures he had selected a necklace of pearls and jewels, to adorn his statue of Fortune at Tusculum. But it suddenly occurring to him that it deserved a more august place, he consecrated it to the Capitoline Venus; and next night, he dreamt that Fortune appeared to him, complaining that she had been defrauded of the present intended her, and threatening to resume what she had given him. Terrified at this denunciation, at break of day he sent forward some persons to Tusculum, to make preparations for a sacrifice which might avert the displeasure of the goddess; and when he himself arrived at the place, he found nothing but some hot embers upon the altar, and an old man in black standing by, holding a little incense in a glass, and some wine in an earthen pot. It was remarked, too, that whilst he was sacrificing upon the calends of January, the chaplet fell from his head, and upon his consulting the pullets for omens, they flew away. Farther, upon the day of his adopting Piso, when he was to harangue the soldiers, the seat which he used upon those occasions, through the neglect of his attendants, was not placed, according to custom, upon his tribunal; and in the senate-house, his curule chair was set with the back forward.

XIX. The day before he was killed, as he was performing a sacrifice in the morning, the augur repeatedly warned him to be on his guard, telling him he was in danger from assassins who were close by. Soon after, he learned that Otho had taken control of the praetorian camp. Although most of his friends urged him to go there immediately, hoping he might quell the disturbance with his authority and presence, he decided instead to stay inside the palace and protect himself with the legionary soldiers stationed throughout the city. He put on a linen coat of mail, remarking at the time that it would be of little use against so many swords. But, lured out by false reports—which the conspirators had deliberately spread to get him to leave—some of those near him too quickly assured him that the tumult was over, the mutineers had been arrested, and the rest were coming to show their loyalty. With such confidence, he went to meet them, and when a soldier bragged that he had killed Otho, Galba asked, “By what authority?” and continued on as far as the Forum. There, the knights assigned to kill him, pushing past the crowd, paused when they saw him, then galloped toward him. Now deserted by all his attendants, they killed him.

XX. Some authors say that when they first approached, he cried out, “What do you mean, fellow-soldiers? I am yours, and you are mine,” and offered them a donative. But most writers report that he bared his throat to them, saying, “Do your work, and strike, since you are resolved upon it.” Remarkably, not one bystander tried to help the emperor, and those who were summoned ignored the call, except a troop of Germans. Out of gratitude for his recent kindness during a sickness in the camp, they rushed to his aid, but arrived too late; unfamiliar with the town, they had taken a roundabout route. He was killed near the Curtian Lake 667 and left there until a common soldier, returning from collecting his ration of corn, dropped his load and cut off Galba’s head. With no hair to grab it by, the man hid the head in his tunic; but he later stuck his thumb in the mouth and carried it that way to Otho, who handed it over to the drudges and slaves attending the soldiers. They, fixing it on the (414) point of a spear, paraded it around the camp in mockery, shouting, “You enjoy your fill of pleasure in your old age.” This harsh taunt was provoked by a rumor, spread a few days before, that after someone praised Galba’s vigor, he had replied,

Eti moi menos empedoi estin. 668  
My strength, as yet, has suffered no decay.

A freedman of Petrobius, who had belonged to Nero’s household, bought the head from them for a hundred gold pieces and threw it where Galba had ordered his master killed. At last, after some time, Galba’s steward Argius buried the head with the rest of his body in his own gardens near the Aurelian Way.

XXI. In appearance, he was of good height, bald in front, with blue eyes and an aquiline nose; his hands and feet were so distorted by gout that he could neither wear a shoe nor turn the pages of a book, nor even hold one. He also had a growth on his right side that hung down so much it could barely be held up with a bandage.

XXII. He was said to be a great eater, usually taking his breakfast before daybreak in winter. At supper, he ate heartily, giving the leftovers by handfuls to be distributed among his servants. He was more inclined towards the male sex, preferring older men. In Spain, when Icelus, an old companion and favorite of his, brought news of Nero’s death, Galba not only kissed him affectionately in public but asked him to remove any obstacles and then took him in private.

XXIII. He died in the seventy-third year of his age and the seventh month of his reign 669. When it was safe, the senate decreed that a statue be erected to him on the naval column, in the part of the Forum where he (415) was killed. But Vespasian canceled the decree, suspecting that Galba had sent assassins from Spain into Judea to murder him.

* * * * * *

For a private citizen, GALBA was the wealthiest of any who ever aspired to imperial power. He prided himself on being descended from the family of the Servii, but even more on his relation to Quintus Catulus Capitolinus, celebrated for his integrity and virtue. He was also distantly related to Livia, wife of Augustus; through her influence he was promoted from his post in the palace to the consulship, and she left him a considerable legacy when she died. His frugal lifestyle and dislike of extravagance were called avarice as soon as he became emperor. Plutarch notes that what Galba saw as temperance and economy seemed untimely to others. While trying to reform the reckless public spending under Nero, he went too far in the opposite extreme; some historians accuse him of failing to uphold the imperial dignity even to the point of decency. He was not careful enough with his own safety or the stability of the state when he refused to pay the soldiers the donative he had promised. This breach of faith seems to be the only act in his life to cast doubt on his integrity, and it contributed more to his downfall than the open greed and corruption of his favorites, especially Vinius.

## A. SALVIUS OTHO.

### (416)

I. Otho’s ancestors were originally from the town of Ferentum, belonging to an ancient and respectable family—one of the most prominent in Etruria. His grandfather, M. Salvius Otho (whose father was a Roman knight but whose mother was of humble origin—it is not certain whether she was free-born), was made a senator through the favor of Livia Augusta, in whose house he was educated, but never rose higher than the praetorship. His father, Lucius Otho, was nobly descended on his mother’s side, connected to several great families, and so well liked by Tiberius—and so much like him in appearance—that many believed Tiberius was his real father. He was known for his strictness and severity, not only in city offices but also as proconsul of Africa and in some special military commands. He had the courage to execute by death some soldiers in Illyricum who, during Camillus’s uprising, had changed sides and murdered their generals (who supported Claudius). He had the executions carried out at the front of the camp 670, and in his presence, even though he knew they had been promoted by Claudius for that very reason. This brought him fame, but made him less popular at court. However, he regained favor by revealing to Claudius a plot against his life, organized by a Roman knight 671, which he discovered through some of his slaves. As a result, the senate ordered a statue of him be erected in the palace—an honor granted to very few. Claudius made him a patrician, commending him highly and even saying, “A man, than whom I don’t so (417) much as wish to have children that should be better.” He had two sons by a distinguished woman, Albia Terentia: Lucius Titianus, and a younger son named Marcus, sharing his cognomen. He also had a daughter, betrothed to Drusus, Germanicus’s son, before she reached marriageable age.

II. The emperor Otho was born on the fourth day before the calends of May [28th April], in the consulship of Camillus Aruntius and Domitius Aenobarbus 672. In his youth, he was so unruly and wild that he was often harshly beaten by his father. He was said to roam at night, grabbing and tossing in a blanket anyone he found who was drunk or too weak to fight back 673. After his father’s death, to better curry favor with a freedwoman of the palace, who was much favored, he pretended to be in love with her, though she was old and almost decrepit. Through her influence, he soon won Nero’s favor, quickly becoming one of his closest companions—either because of shared interests, or, as some say, private vice. He had such power at court that, when a man of consular rank was convicted of bribery and sought Otho’s influence for a pardon in exchange for a large sum, before he succeeded, Otho boldly brought the man into the senate to give thanks.

III. Through this woman’s help, he gained access to all the emperor’s secrets; and on the day planned for Nero’s mother’s murder, he entertained them both at a lavish banquet to avert suspicion. Poppaea Sabina—whom Nero desired so much that he took her from her husband 674 and entrusted her to Otho—Otho welcomed and even went so far as to marry for show. Not content just to have her favor, Otho loved her so passionately that he could not bear Nero as a rival. It is widely believed he refused entry to those Nero sent to fetch her, even once shutting Nero himself out and making him wait at the door, mixing prayers and threats to no avail, demanding back what he had entrusted to Otho. Thus, when their staged marriage was ended, Otho was sent as a lieutenant to Lusitania. This was considered harsh enough, for anything more severe would have revealed the entire sham—which still became public, as told in this couplet:

Cur Otho mentitus sit, quaeritis, exul honore?

Uxoris moechus caeperat esse suae.

You ask why Otho’s banish’d? Know, the cause  
Comes not within the verge of vulgar laws.  
Against all rules of fashionable life,  
The rogue had dared to sleep with his own wife.

He governed Lusitania as quaestor for ten years, with remarkable fairness and justice.

IV. As soon as an opportunity for revenge arose, he eagerly joined in Galba’s schemes and began to dream of gaining the imperial throne for himself. He was emboldened not only by the unsettled state of the times, but even more by the assurances of Seleucus, the astrologer, who had once predicted that he would outlive Nero. Seleucus appeared unexpectedly at this time, once more assuring him that he would become emperor, and very soon. So, Otho left no opportunity untaken to win the favor of everyone around him by every sort of courtesy. Whenever he hosted Galba for supper, he gave each man of the cohort on guard over the emperor a gold coin; he also tried to win favor with the rest of the soldiers in various ways. Once, when he was chosen as arbitrator in a land dispute, he simply bought the land in question and gave it to the man, so that now almost everyone believed—and said—that he alone was worthy to succeed to the empire.

V. Otho held out hope of being adopted by Galba, and waited for it daily. But when he was disappointed, and Piso was named instead, he turned to achieving his goal by force; and he was pushed to this not only by the size of his debts, but also by resentment at Galba’s treatment of him. He made no secret of his belief that “he could not survive unless he became emperor, and that it made no difference whether he died by the hands of his enemies in the field, or his creditors in the Forum.” Just a few days before, he had wrung a million sesterces from one of the emperor’s slaves in exchange for helping him gain a stewardship—and this was all the money he had as a fund for such a major undertaking. At first, only five members of the guard knew about the plot, but later five more named two accomplices each, bringing the total to fifteen. Each received ten thousand sesterces in advance, with a promise of fifty thousand more later. These drew in others, though the circle remained small, since they felt sure that, when the time came, plenty of others would join them.

VI. His first plan was to seize the camp immediately after Piso left, and attack Galba while he was at supper in the palace. But he hesitated for the sake of the cohort on duty, fearing to bring disgrace upon it, since the same unit had been on guard both when Caius was killed and when Nero fled. For some time after, he held back as well because of bad omens and the advice of Seleucus. At last, on the day set for the plot, he told his accomplices to wait for him in the Forum near the temple of Saturn, at the gilded milestone. That morning, he went to pay his respects to Galba, was greeted with a kiss as usual, accompanied him to the sacrifice, and listened to the predictions of the augur. Then, a freedman brought him word (which was the agreed signal) that the architects had arrived. Otho excused himself, saying he was going to inspect a house for sale, and slipped out a backdoor of the palace to the appointed place. Some say he pretended to have an ague fit, and told his staff to use that as an excuse if anyone asked for him. Hiding quickly in a woman’s litter, he hurried to the camp, but when the bearers tired, he got out and ran. When his shoe came loose, he stopped again, but was soon lifted up by his attendants onto their shoulders, and, as they all shouted “EMPEROR!” he entered the Principia in the camp amid cheers and drawn swords—everyone who met him joining as if they had all been in on the plot. He then sent some soldiers to kill Galba and Piso, and in the only speech he made to the troops at that time to win their loyalty, he simply said: “I shall be content with whatever you choose to leave me.”

VII. Later that day, he entered the senate, and after a brief speech pretending he had been seized on the streets and forced into imperial power, which he intended to exercise with them, he returned to the palace. Along with many other congratulations and flatteries, he was called Nero by the crowd, and showed no sign of rejecting the name. In fact, some writers claim he used it in his official documents, and even in his first letters to governors of provinces. He allowed all of Nero’s images and statues to be restored, and reinstated Nero’s procurators and freedmen to their former positions. The first document he signed as emperor was a promise of fifty million sesterces to complete the Golden House. That night, he was reportedly so terrified in his sleep that he groaned heavily; when people ran in to see what was wrong, they found him lying on the floor in front of his bed. He tried every form of ritual atonement to calm the ghost of Galba, by whom he believed he had been violently thrown from his bed. The next day, as he took the omens, a fierce storm broke, and he suffered a severe fall; from time to time he muttered to himself:

Ti gar moi kai makrois aulois?
What business have I the loud trumpets to sound!

VIII. Around this same time, the armies in Germany swore allegiance to Vitellius as emperor. On hearing this, Otho advised the senate to send envoys to inform them that an emperor had already been chosen, and to urge peace and goodwill. Still, by letters and messengers, he offered Vitellius the chance to become his colleague in the empire, and even his son-in-law. But as war became inevitable and Vitellius’ generals and troops advanced, Otho witnessed a proof of the loyalty and passion of the praetorian guard that nearly brought disaster to the senate. It had been decided that weapons should be taken from the stores and transported to the fleet by marines. While the marines were fetching these at night, some guards, suspecting betrayal, sparked a riot. Suddenly, the entire guard, without their officers, rushed to the palace, demanding the execution of the whole senate; having driven off some tribunes who tried to stop them, and killed others, they burst bloodied into the banqueting room, looking for the emperor, and would not leave until they saw him. Otho now set out on his campaign against Vitellius energetically, but also with excessive haste and little regard for the ominous signs attending it. The Ancilia had been removed from the temple of Mars for the usual procession but had not yet been replaced—in ancient times, it was considered very unlucky to undertake any venture during this interval. Moreover, he set out on the day when worshippers of the Mother of the gods began their wailing and lamentations. Other unlucky omens attended him as well: in a sacrifice to Father Dis, he observed signs usually considered fortunate, but in that particular sacrifice, the opposite indications were regarded as favorable. As soon as he started, he was stopped by floods of the Tiber; and at twenty miles from Rome, he found the road impassable from the collapse of houses.

IX. Although most people thought it best to prolong the war, since the enemy was suffering from famine and cramped quarters, Otho, with equal impatience and recklessness, insisted on forcing a decisive engagement—perhaps through anxiety and desire to settle things before Vitellius’ arrival, or because he could not hold back his troops, who were all eager for battle. He wasn’t present at any of the engagements, remaining behind at Brixellum. He won three minor victories, near the Alps, at Placentia, and at Castor’s, but through a trick by the enemy, was defeated in the last and most important battle at Bedriacum. For while a parley was being arranged and the troops lined up to hear peace terms, they were suddenly attacked in mid-salutation. Immediately afterward, Otho decided to end his life—many think, with good reason, not from despair or distrust of his troops, but out of shame for risking the public good and so many lives by continuing the struggle for the empire. For he still had in reserve, at full strength, the forces he’d kept for a second attempt, and reinforcements were on their way from Dalmatia, Pannonia, and Moesia; nor were the troops recently defeated so demoralized as to be unwilling to fight again to erase their shame.

X. My father, Suetonius Lenis, was present at this battle, being at that time an angusticlavian tribune in the thirteenth legion. He used to say that Otho, before gaining the throne, had such an aversion to civil war that once, when someone at dinner recounted the deaths of Cassius and Brutus, he began to tremble; and that he would never have opposed Galba if he hadn’t believed he could succeed without war. Moreover, my father said that Otho was spurred to despise life by the example of a common soldier, who, bringing news of the defeat and finding no one believed him, was mocked as a liar and a coward and, as if he had fled the fight, threw himself on his sword at the emperor’s feet; at which sight, Otho cried out that he would not expose such brave men, who had served him well, to further danger. He urged his brother, his nephew, and his other friends to look to their safety, embraced and kissed them, and sent them away. Then he withdrew alone to a private room, wrote a comforting letter of two sheets to his sister, sent another to Messalina, Nero’s widow (whom he had planned to marry), asking her to care for his remains and memory, and burned all his letters so none of the writers would risk harm from the conqueror. The money he had left he gave to his servants.

XI. When all was ready and he was about to end his life, he delayed when a commotion broke out in the camp, learning that some soldiers trying to leave had been seized as deserters. “Let us add,” he said, “this night to our life.” These were his very words.

He ordered that no one be mistreated; and, keeping his room open until late, allowed anyone who wished to visit him. At last, after quenching his thirst with a drink of cold water, he took up two daggers, inspected their blades, placed one under his pillow, shut his door, and slept soundly. At dawn, he stabbed himself under the left breast. When people burst into the room at his first groan, he sometimes covered, sometimes uncovered his wound for them to see, and so died quickly. His funeral was held in haste, as he had ordered, in the thirty-eighth year of his age and on the ninety-fifth day of his reign.

XII. Otho’s physical appearance did not match the courage he showed at his end; he was said to be short, flat-footed, and bow-legged. Yet he was excessive in caring for his looks: he removed all body hair by the roots; being somewhat bald, he wore a wig so skillfully made that no one would know it. He shaved every day and rubbed his face with soaked bread—a habit he began at the first sign of facial hair to avoid having a beard. He is also said to have celebrated the rites of Isis in public, dressed in the linen garments worn by her followers. These things perhaps made it all the more astonishing that his death was so unlike his lifestyle. Many soldiers present kissed his hands and feet and, weeping, called him “a most gallant man, and an incomparable emperor,” and then immediately killed themselves near his funeral pyre.

Many others farther away, when they heard the news of his death, in their grief began fighting among themselves until they killed one another. In the end, though people hated him while he lived, they praised him highly after his death—so much so that it became common talk, “that Galba had been destroyed by his rival, not so much for the sake of ruling himself, as of restoring Rome to its ancient liberty.”

* * * * * *

It is remarkable in the story of this emperor, that both his rise and his fall were owed to the tangled troubles he faced—first financially, then politically. As far as we know, he was not a follower of any philosophical sect that endorsed or advocated suicide in certain cases; yet he committed that act with extraordinary calm and resolve, and, just as remarkably, for the reason he himself stated: the public good. It was said for years after his death, “No one ever died like Otho.”

## AULUS VITELLIUS.

### (427)

I. The origins of the Vitellian family are the subject of very different accounts. Some describe it as ancient and noble, others as recent and obscure—some even say extremely lowly. I am inclined to think these stories were written by Vitellius’ flatterers and critics after he became emperor, unless the family’s fortunes had truly changed earlier. There is a surviving memoir by Quintus Eulogius, addressed to Quintus Vitellius, quaestor to the Divine Augustus, which claims that the Vitellii descended from Faunus, king of the aborigines, and from Vitellia (worshipped in several places as a goddess), that they once ruled all Latium; that after the family dwindled, its remaining members left the Sabine country for Rome and joined the patrician order; that some evidence of the family lingered for quite a time, like the Vitellian Way from the Janiculum to the sea, and a colony of that name which, long ago, sought government permission to defend against the Aequicolae with only its own family’s forces; and that in the Samnite war, some Vitellii who joined troops raised for Apulia settled at Nuceria and their descendants later returned to Rome and re-entered the patrician order. However, most writers say the family’s founder was a freedman. Cassius Severus and others add that he was a cobbler, whose son made his fortune by managing confiscated property, and by a common prostitute—the daughter of Antiochus, a baker—had a child who became a Roman knight. The reader may choose whichever account they prefer.

II. What is certain is that Publius Vitellius of Nuceria, whether of noble lineage or low birth, was a Roman knight and procurator to Augustus. He left behind four sons, all highly placed, all sharing the surname but named differently as Aulus, Quintus, Publius, and Lucius. Aulus died while serving as consul, holding the office jointly with Domitius, father of Nero Caesar. He was famous for his luxurious lifestyle and the extravagance of his feasts. Quintus lost his rank in the senate, when Tiberius moved for a purge to remove any who did not meet the proper standards. Publius, a close friend of Germanicus, prosecuted his enemy and murderer, Cneius Piso, and secured his conviction. After a term as praetor, he was caught up among Sejanus’ accomplices and handed over to his brother under house arrest. He tried to bleed himself to death with a penknife, but allowed the wound to be bound—not so much out of regret, but to satisfy his family’s pleas. He died of natural causes during his confinement. Lucius, after his consulship, became governor of Syria, and with his tact not only arranged a personal meeting with Artabanus, king of the Parthians, but persuaded him to worship the standards of the Roman legions. He later served as consul ordinary twice and as censor with the emperor Claudius. When Claudius was away in Britain, Lucius had the care of the empire, being a man of great integrity and diligence. But he tarnished his reputation by his notorious infatuation with a certain freedwoman: to cure a throat ailment he would routinely and openly anoint his throat and jaws with her spittle mixed with honey, not privately or occasionally but daily and in public. His flattery was so extreme that he initiated the worship of Caius Caesar as a god, refusing to greet him except with his head covered, turning around and prostrating himself on the ground. Not to miss any chance to curry favor with Claudius—who was thoroughly controlled by his wives and freedmen—he begged from Messalina, as a special privilege, permission to remove her shoes; and when he had done so, he kept her right shoe under his clothing, kissing it from time to time. He even worshipped golden images of Narcissus and Pallas among his household gods. And when Claudius held the secular games, Lucius exclaimed in congratulation, “May you often do the same.”

III. Lucius died of a stroke, the day after he suffered it, leaving two sons by his most excellent and respected wife, Sextilia. He lived to see both sons serve as consuls in the same year, the younger succeeding the elder for the last six months. The senate, upon his death, paid for his funeral and honored him with a statue in the Rostra bearing the inscription: “One who was steadfast in his loyalty to his prince.” Emperor Aulus Vitellius, the son of this Lucius, was born on either the eighth of the calends of October (24th September), or, as some say, the seventh of the ides of September (7th September), in the consulship of Drusus Caesar and Norbanus Flaccus. The predictions of astrologers so frightened his parents that his father worked hard to keep him from being appointed governor of any province while he was alive. His mother, when he was sent to the legions, and again when he was declared emperor, immediately mourned him as lost. In his youth he lived among Tiberius’ catamites at Capri, was constantly called a Spintria, and was believed to have advanced his father’s career by submitting to the emperor’s depraved desires.

IV. Even as an adult, being just as notoriously immoral, he found great favor at court; being a great favorite of Caius (Caligula), both for his passion for chariot racing, and of Claudius for his love of gambling. He was even more pleasing to Nero, for those same reasons and for a particular service. When Nero presided over games of his own institution, he longed to perform among the harpists, but his modesty held him back, even though the people clamored for it. When Nero left the theater, Vitellius fetched him back, claiming it was on behalf of the people’s wishes, and so gave him a reason to give in to their entreaties.

V. Thanks to the favor of these three princes, he not only rose to high state offices but also to the highest dignities of the sacred order. He later held the proconsulship of Africa and was put in charge of public works—a post in which his conduct, and his reputation as a result, were very different. He governed the province with outstanding integrity for two years, in the last of which he served as deputy to his brother, who succeeded him. But in his city office, it was said that he plundered temples of their gifts and ornaments, and exchanged brass and tin for gold and silver. 703

VI. He married Petronia, the daughter of a man of consular rank, and had a son by her, named Petronius, who was blind in one eye. When the mother wanted to make this young man her heir, on the condition that he be freed from his father's authority, the father released him; but soon after, he was believed to have murdered him, accusing him of plotting against his life and pretending that, in guilt, he drank the very poison he had prepared for his father. Soon afterward, he married Galeria Fundana, the daughter of a man of praetorian rank, and had by her both sons and daughters. Among the sons was one who stammered so severely he was nearly mute.

VII. He was sent by Galba to Lower Germany 704, against his own expectations. It's thought he obtained this post through the influence of Titus Junius, a prominent man at that time, whose friendship he had gained earlier by sharing enthusiasm for the same team of charioteers at the Circensian games. However, Galba openly declared that the least dangerous men were those who only cared about their appetites, and that even Vitellius's enormous appetite could be satisfied by the abundance of that province—clearly, he was chosen more out of contempt than favor. When he was to depart, he lacked money for his travel expenses; at the time, he was so hard-pressed that he had to put his wife and children, whom he left in Rome, in a cheap lodging he rented for them so he could let his own house for the rest of the year, and he pawned a pearl taken from his mother's earring to pay for the journey. He avoided a mob of creditors waiting to intercept him—including people from Sineussa and Formia whose taxes he had misappropriated—by frightening them with threats of false charges. He also brought a lawsuit against a certain freedman demanding a debt, claiming the man had kicked him; he refused to drop the suit until he extorted fifty thousand sesterces from the freedman. When he arrived in the province, the army (432), disaffected with Galba and ready for insurrection, welcomed him as if he had been sent by heaven. It further helped that he was the son of a thrice-consul, was in his prime, and was known for being easygoing and extravagant. Vitellius confirmed his reputation by recent behavior—kissing every common soldier he met on the road and being overly friendly in inns and stables with muleteers and travelers, asking them in the morning if they had had their breakfast, and belching to show them he had enjoyed his.

VIII. After arriving at camp, he denied no one any request and pardoned everyone convicted of shameful or disorderly conduct. So, before a month had passed, regardless of the day or season, he was dragged from his bedchamber—though it was evening and he was still in undress—and unanimously greeted by the title of EMPEROR 705. He was then carried through the largest nearby towns, wielding the sword of the Divine Julius, which someone had taken from the Temple of Mars and presented to him at his acclamation. He didn't return to the praetorium until his dining room caught fire from a chimney blaze. When everyone was alarmed and worried this was a bad omen, he merely cried out, "Courage, boys! It shines brightly upon us." That was all he said to the soldiers. The army of the Upper Province, which had previously backed the senate against Galba, joined in the proceedings. Vitellius eagerly accepted the title Germanicus, which both armies offered him by unanimous consent, but delayed taking the name Augustus and permanently refused that of Caesar.

IX. After hearing about Galba’s death, and once he had settled affairs in Germany, he divided his troops in two—intending to send one body ahead to face Otho and to follow with the other himself. The armies sent ahead received a good sign: suddenly, an eagle flew up on their right, circled their standards, and then gently led the way before them. However, when Vitellius began his own march, all the equestrian statues erected to him in several places suddenly collapsed with their legs broken, and the laurel crown he had donned as a sign of good fortune fell from his head into a river. Soon after, at Vienne 706, while he was sitting on the tribunal administering justice, a cock landed on his shoulder and then on his head. The outcome matched these omens—he could not keep the empire his lieutenants had won for him.

X. He heard of the victory at Bedriacum 707 and Otho’s death while he was still in Gaul, and without hesitation, he issued a single proclamation disbanding all the praetorian cohorts, blaming their repeated acts of treason for setting a dangerous example for the rest of the army. He ordered them to surrender their arms to his tribunes. He also ordered 120 of them—whose petitions for rewards from Otho for their part in Galba’s murder he had found—to be sought out and punished. So far, his conduct was admirable and gave hope he might become an excellent prince, had he not managed the rest of his affairs more in line with his own vices and former habits than with imperial dignity. For, once his march began, he entered every city along his route in a triumphal parade, and traveled down rivers in elegant, decorated ships, indulging in wild feasts along the way. Discipline and order broke down so completely in his household and army that, unsatisfied with the official provisions, they committed robberies and abused the locals, freeing slaves as they liked. If anyone resisted, they met blows, insults, wounds, and sometimes were even killed. When he reached the battlefield plains (434), some of his companions, complaining about the smell of rotting corpses, were met with his appalling comment: "A dead enemy smells good, especially if he is a fellow citizen." To "make up" for the stench, he brazenly drank a public goblet of wine and ostentatiously shared it with the troops. When he spotted a stone marking Otho's grave, he commented: "A mausoleum good enough for such a prince." He sent the dagger with which Otho had committed suicide to the colony of Agrippina 709, to be dedicated to Mars. On the Apennine hills, he celebrated a Bacchanalian feast.

XI. He finally entered the City with trumpets sounding, wearing his general's cloak and sword, amid a display of standards and banners, his attendants all in military dress and his soldiers’ weapons drawn. Breaking laws divine and human without hesitation, he assumed the office of Pontifex Maximus on the day of the defeat at the Allia 710, ordered that magistrates be elected for ten-year terms, and made himself consul for life. To make clear the model for his rule, he made offerings to Nero’s spirit in the Campus Martius, witnessed by all the public priests. At a grand banquet, he asked a popular harper to perform songs in praise of Domitius; when the man began some of Nero's compositions, Vitellius leaped up and openly applauded, clapping enthusiastically.

XII. After such a start to his reign, for most of it he governed (435) by the advice of the lowest sorts—actors, charioteers, and especially his freedman Asiaticus. This man, who as a youth had been involved with Vitellius in mutual, shameful acts, eventually grew tired and ran away. Vitellius later caught him at Puteoli, selling a cheap drink called Posca 711, and put him in chains, but soon released and restored him to favor. Tiring again of his bad temper, Vitellius sold him to a traveling fencing master. When Asiaticus was to appear at the closing of a gladiatorial show, Vitellius suddenly spirited him away; eventually, when he became provincial governor, he gave Asiaticus his freedom. On his first day as emperor, he presented Asiaticus with gold rings at supper, though earlier that day, when others had asked for this honor on his behalf, Vitellius had expressed horror at sullying the equestrian order.

XIII. He was particularly addicted to luxury and cruelty. He routinely had three meals a day, and sometimes four: breakfast, dinner, supper, and then a drunken feast afterward. He could endure so much food by making himself vomit frequently, a habit he had developed. He would dine at multiple friends' houses on the same day; the least anyone ever spent hosting him was four hundred thousand sesterces. 712 The most famed feast was given by his brother, said to serve two thousand choice fish and seven thousand birds. Yet Vitellius surpassed even this, with a banquet to inaugurate a new dish—so large he called it "The Shield of Minerva." Into it he tossed together the livers of char-fish, brains of pheasants and peacocks, tongues of flamingoes, and lamprey guts brought in warships from as far as the Carpathian Sea and the Spanish Straits. He was insatiable, and would easily eat at odd hours and whatever scraps he came across; at sacrifices, he would snatch roasted meat and cakes from the fire and eat them on the spot. On his travels, he did the same at inns, whether the food was freshly cooked or leftover and half-eaten from before.

XIV. He took delight in inflicting punishments, even capital ones, without regard to rank or situation. He invited noblemen—his school fellows and friends—to court, treating them with such flattering affection that it seemed he was about to grant them imperial honors, yet he had them all killed by base means. One he poisoned with his own hand, offering "cold water" during a fever. He spared hardly any usurer, notary, or tax collector who had sought payment from him in Rome or tolls on the road. One he summoned for execution even as the man saluted him but then sent for him back; when bystanders praised his mercy, Vitellius ordered the man murdered in front of him, saying, “I want to feed my eyes.” When two sons tried to plead for their father’s life, he ordered them killed with him. When a Roman knight, being seized, shouted, "You are my heir," Vitellius had the will produced; finding the freedman was made joint heir, he had both their throats cut. Vitellius had people killed for merely cursing the blue team at the Circensian games, believing this was done in contempt of himself or in hope for a change of regime. He was especially harsh against jugglers and astrologers; once accused, they were executed without trial. He hated them because after he had announced that astrologers must leave Rome and all Italy by October, a posted notice appeared: “TAKE NOTICE: 713 The Chaldaeans also decree that Vitellius Germanicus shall be no more by the day of the said calends.” He was even suspected of involvement in his mother's death, forbidding anyone to give her food when she was unwell, because a German witch 714 whom he believed prophetic, told him, "You will reign long and safely if you outlive your mother." Others suggest, however, that she, weary of affairs and anxious about the future, easily obtained poison from her son.

XV. In the eighth month of his reign, the troops in Moesia and Pannonia rebelled against him, as did the armies in Judaea and Syria—some swearing loyalty to Vespasian as emperor while he was present, others in his absence. In an effort to win popular favor, Vitellius spent extravagantly on those around him, publicly and privately. He recruited soldiers in the city, promising those who volunteered not only discharge after victory but also the full rewards for veterans. As enemies closed in by land and sea, he set his brother against them with a fleet, new recruits, and gladiators, and deployed other forces to the Bedriacum theater. But, beaten or betrayed everywhere, he made terms with Flavius Sabinus, Vespasian’s brother, agreeing to abdicate if his life and a hundred million sesterces were spared. He at once declared on the palace steps, to a large assembled crowd of soldiers, "that he resigned the government, which he had accepted reluctantly," but their protests led him to delay ratifying the agreement. The next morning, wearing humble clothes and in tears, he repeated the announcement from a written statement in the Forum; but again, soldiers and crowds insisted he hold out and trust in their support. He regained his confidence and forced Sabinus and the rest of the Flavian party, who thought themselves safe, to retreat into the Capitol, where he destroyed them by setting the Temple of Jupiter on fire, watching the struggle and conflagration from Tiberius’s house 715, where he was feasting. Regretting his actions not long after and blaming others, he called a meeting and swore “that nothing was dearer to him than the public peace;” requiring everyone else to take the same oath. Then, drawing a dagger, he offered it to the consul, then to the magistrates, and then to each senator, but when all refused to take it, he pretended to leave it in the temple of Concord. When someone cried out, "You are Concord," he returned and said he would not only keep the dagger but also take the surname Concord.

XVI. He advised the senate to send envoys, with the Vestal Virgins, to ask for peace or at least time for negotiation. The next day, while awaiting a reply, news arrived by a scout that the enemy was advancing. Immediately, he threw himself into a small hand-carried litter with only two attendants—a baker and a cook—and privately withdrew to his father’s house on the Aventine, planning to escape to Campania. But after a rumor—unfounded—spread that the enemy was willing to make terms, he let himself be carried back to the palace. Finding no one there, and those who were present beginning to slip away, he girt a belt of gold coins around his waist and ran into the porter’s lodge, tied the dog at the door, and barricaded it with the bed and bedding.

XVII. By then the enemy’s advance guard had broken into the palace, and, finding no one, searched everywhere. When they dragged Vitellius from his hiding place and asked, "Who are you?" (for they didn’t know him) and "Do you know where Vitellius is?" he misled them. But at last, upon being identified, he begged to be kept as a prisoner, even in jail, pretending he had matters important to Vespasian’s safety to reveal. Nonetheless, he was dragged half-naked into the Forum, hands bound behind him, a rope around his neck, his robe torn, receiving the worst abuse—verbal and physical—as he was marched down the Via Sacra. His head was yanked back by the hair like a condemned man, and the point of a sword under his chin forced him to show his face. People pelted him with filth and mud, shouting "firebug" and "glutton!" and mocked his physical faults, for he was unusually tall, with a face red from drinking, a big belly, and a weak thigh from being struck by a chariot while tending to Caius 716 as he drove. At last, at the Scalae Gemoniae, he was tortured to death, then dragged by hook into the Tiber.

XVIII. He died along with his brother and son 717, at the age of fifty-seven 718, fulfilling the omen told of him at Vienne 719 that he would be captured by a Gaul. He was seized by Antoninus Primus, a general from the opposing side, who was born at Toulouse and, as a boy, bore the nickname Becco 720, meaning "cock's beak."

* * * * * *

\(440\) After the extinction of the Caesar family, control of the empire became very unstable; strong influence within the army now always led to the throne. With soldiers claiming the right to choose the emperor, sometimes they elected one man, but often rival factions supported different candidates, leading to armed conflict and the assassination of the loser. Vitellius, by flattering all emperors from Tiberius to Nero, had achieved high military rank, and through his ambition, adventurous spirit, and bold promises to the troops, it was easy to seize power while Otho’s rule was still insecure. His ambition drove him to the attempt, and his daring brought it success. In service to the four previous emperors, Vitellius acquired their worst vices; but above all, he was noted for his gluttony, which he satisfied with extravagance but, when necessary, with even the strangest or foulest food. The cowardice he showed at his death stood in sharp contrast to Otho’s courage.

## T. FLAVIUS VESPASIANUS AUGUSTUS.

### (441)

I. The empire, long troubled and unsettled by the insurrections and violent deaths of its previous three rulers, was finally brought back to peace and stability by the Flavian family. Though of humble origin and with no ancestral titles, their rise caused no disappointment in the Roman people—though it is agreed that Domitian justly reaped the results of his greed and cruelty. Titus Flavius Petro, a native of Reate 721—whether he was a centurion or an evocatus 722 in Pompey’s army during the civil war is uncertain—fled the Battle of Pharsalia and returned home. Having eventually obtained a pardon and discharge, he became a collector of money from public auctions. His son, known as Sabinus, never served in the military (some say he was a centurion of the first order; others that he was discharged from that post due to poor health). This Sabinus was a publican and collected the fortieth-penny tax in Asia. At the family's rise, several statues of him remained in Asia, inscribed: “To the honest Tax-farmer.” 723 Later, he became a moneylender among the Helvetii, and died there, leaving his wife, Vespasia Polla, and two sons; the elder, Sabinus, became prefect of the city, and the younger, Vespasian, became emperor. Polla was of good family from Nursia 724; her father, Vespasius Pollio, was made military tribune three times and finally prefect of the camp; her brother was a senator of praetorian rank. Six miles from Nursia, on the way to Spoletum, there is still a landmark on a hill called Vespasiae, with several family monuments that prove the ancient standing of the Vespasii. Some claim Petro’s father was from Gallia Transpadana 725, and hired annual laborers from Umbria for Sabine farms, only to settle at Reate and marry there; but, after careful inquiry, I have found no evidence.

II. Vespasian was born in Sabine country, beyond Reate, at a small estate called Phalacrine, on the fifth day before the calends of December [27th November] in the evening, during the consulship of Quintus Sulpicius Camerinus and Caius Poppaeus Sabinus, five years before Augustus’s death 727. He was raised by his paternal grandmother, Tertulla, at a family estate at Cosa 728. After becoming emperor, he often visited his childhood home, which remained unchanged so he could see everything as he remembered it. He so respected his grandmother’s memory that on special and festival days, he always drank from a silver cup she used. After taking the toga virilis, he was for a long time reluctant to seek senatorial rank, although his brother had obtained it; only his mother could persuade him, using taunts and reproaches more than requests or authority (she would jokingly call him his brother’s footman). He served as military tribune in Thrace. When he became quaestor, the province of Crete and Cyrene fell to him by lot. He ran for aedile, and then praetor, but failed the first time—finally winning aedileship sixth place, with much difficulty. For praetor, he won on his first attempt, ranking highly in the poll. Displeased with the senate and eager to please Caius 729, he got permission to stage extraordinary 730 games for the emperor’s victory in Germany, and pushed for harsh penalties—exposing the bodies—against conspirators in the emperor's life. He also thanked the emperor in the senate for being admitted to his table.

III. In the meantime, he married Flavia Domitilla, who had previously been the mistress of Statilius Capella, a Roman knight from Sabrata in Africa, who held Latin rights. Domitilla was soon afterwards formally granted full Roman citizenship during a trial before the court of Recovery, initiated by her father, Flavius Liberalis—a native of Ferentum, though only serving as secretary to a quaestor. By Domitilla, he had the following children: Titus, Domitian, and Domitilla. He outlived both his wife and daughter, losing them before he became emperor. After his wife’s death, he resumed his relationship with his former concubine, Caenis, the freedwoman and amanuensis of Antonia, and treated her—even after he was emperor—almost as if she were his lawful wife. 732

\(444\) IV. During Claudius’s reign, with the support of Narcissus, he was sent to Germany in command of a legion; from there, he was transferred to Britain, where he engaged the enemy in thirty distinct battles. He subdued two powerful tribes and more than twenty major towns, including the Isle of Wight, close to the coast of Britain; his campaigns were partly under the command of Aulus Plautius, the consular lieutenant, and partly under Claudius himself 733. For these achievements, he received triumphal decorations and soon afterwards two priesthoods, in addition to the consulship, which he held during the last two months of the year 734. Between this and his proconsulship, he spent his time in leisure and retirement, fearing Agrippina, who still wielded great influence over her son and despised all friends of Narcissus, who by then had died. Later, he was assigned the province of Africa by lot, which he governed with much distinction, except for an incident during an uprising at Adrumetum when he was pelted with turnips. It’s clear he did not enrich himself while there; his credit became so poor that he had to mortgage his entire estate to his brother and resorted to dealing in mules to maintain his social standing, earning him the nickname “the Muleteer.” He was also reportedly found guilty of accepting two hundred thousand sesterces from a young nobleman for securing the broad-stripe, against the wishes of the young man's father, and was sharply reprimanded for it. While attending Nero in Achaia, he often left the theatre when Nero was performing, and if he stayed, he would fall asleep. This displeased Nero so much that he excluded him from his company and even forbade him to greet him in public. Afterward, he withdrew to a small, remote town, living in continual fear for his life until he was offered a province with an army.

There had long been a firm belief throughout the East 735 that it was destined at that time for the empire of the world to fall to someone coming from Judaea. This prophecy actually referred to a Roman emperor, as events would show; but the Jews interpreted it as referring to themselves, rose in revolt, killed their governor 736, defeated the lieutenant of Syria 737—a man of consular rank who was coming to the governor’s aid—and captured an eagle standard from one of his legions. Suppressing this revolt required a strong force and a trustworthy, active commander, so Vespasian was chosen above all others—for his reputation for vigor and because his obscure origins and background ensured there would be no jealousy. Two additional legions, eight cavalry squadrons, and ten cohorts were added to the forces already in Judaea. Taking his eldest son as lieutenant, he won the attention of neighboring provinces as soon as he arrived by swiftly reforming the military discipline, and by engaging the enemy with such determination that, during the assault of a fortress 738, he was struck on the knee by a stone and received several arrows in his shield.

V. After the deaths of Nero and Galba, while Otho and Vitellius were vying for the throne, he began to hope that he himself might win the empire—hopes he had nurtured for some time, prompted by various omens. On a Flavian family estate near Rome, there was an ancient oak sacred to Mars which, at each of Vespasia’s three deliveries, sprouted a new branch—clear signs of the future fortunes of each child. The first branch was weak and soon withered, just as the daughter born then did not live long. The second branch was robust, signaling good fortune, and the third flourished like a tree. Sabinus, his father, encouraged by these omens—which were confirmed by the augurs—told his mother, “Your grandson will be emperor of Rome.” She laughed heartily, saying she marveled that “her son was losing his wits while she remained fully sane.”

Later, during his aedileship, when Caius Caesar was furious with him for failing to keep the streets clean and ordered soldiers to fill his gown with dirt, some people interpreted the incident as a sign that, after being trampled and abandoned during civil unrest, the state would fall under Vespasian’s protection “into his lap.” At dinner once, a stray dog brought a human hand 739 and placed it under his table. On another occasion, while he was at supper, an ox broke its yoke, burst into the room, scared everyone off, then suddenly collapsed, as if exhausted, at Vespasian’s feet as he reclined on his couch, letting its head hang down. A family cypress tree was also mysteriously uprooted on a calm day and lain flat, but by the next day it had stood itself up, appearing stronger than ever.

While in Achaia, he dreamed that his and his family’s fortunes would begin to rise after Nero had a tooth pulled; and, indeed, the next day a surgeon entered, showing him a tooth just removed from Nero. In Judaea, upon seeking guidance from the oracle of the deity at Carmel 740, the answer assured him of success in anything he attempted, no matter how ambitious. When Josephus 741, a noble prisoner, was put in chains, he boldly predicted he would soon be released by that very Vespasian, but only after Vespasian had become emperor 742. Omens were reported in news from Rome as well, including a dream in which Nero, near death, was told to carry Jupiter’s sacred chariot to Vespasian’s house and then to the circus. Not long after, as Galba was heading to his second consulship election, a statue of the Divine Julius 743 turned eastward. At Bedriacum 744, on the eve of battle, two eagles fought before the army; when one was defeated, a third eagle appeared from the east and drove off the victor.

\(448\) VI. He made no move toward seizing power, even though his friends were eager and urged him to do so, until he was unexpectedly aided by people distant and unknown to him. Two thousand men, recruited from three legions of the Moesian army, had been sent to help Otho. As they marched, news reached them of Otho’s defeat and suicide, but they kept advancing as far as Aquileia, claiming disbelief in the report. There, taking advantage of the prevailing confusion, they plundered the countryside at will. Eventually, fearing punishment upon their return, they decided to choose and proclaim an emperor. “After all,” they reasoned, “they were not inferior to the army that made Galba emperor, the praetorian troops who set up Otho, or the forces in Germany who supported Vitellius.” Various consular legates were suggested, but for different reasons each was dismissed, until men of the third legion, transferred before Nero’s death from Syria to Moesia, highly praised Vespasian. With the rest agreeing, they immediately placed his name on their standards. The plan, however, was dropped temporarily as the troops accepted Vitellius’s command for a while longer.

Nevertheless, as the story spread, Tiberius Alexander, governor of Egypt, was the first to make the legions under him swear allegiance to Vespasian as emperor on the calends of July, which then became officially recognized as the day of his accession. On the fifth day before the ides of the same month \[the 28th of July\], the army in Judaea, where Vespasian himself was, also swore allegiance to him. The movement was significantly assisted by a circulated letter, said—real or forged—to have been written by Otho before his death, earnestly beseeching Vespasian to avenge him and save the republic; and by the rumor that Vitellius, after defeating Otho, planned to move the legions in Germany to safer and milder winter quarters. Among provincial governors, Licinius Mucianus—setting aside his open rivalry with Vespasian—promised to join him with the Syrian army; and among allied kings, Volugesus of Parthia offered to send him forty thousand archers.

VII. Embarking on civil war, Vespasian sent his generals and troops ahead into Italy, while he himself crossed over to Alexandria to secure control over the gateway to Egypt 745. There, he entered the temple of Serapis alone to seek omens regarding his future rule, striving to win the god’s favor. Turning around, Basilides 746 appeared before him, presenting the sacred leaves, garlands, and cakes as per custom, though no one had admitted him and he had been long incapacitated by a muscular ailment that hardly allowed him to walk—and besides, he was definitely far away at the time. Soon after, letters arrived confirming that Vitellius’s forces had been defeated at Cremona and that Vitellius himself had been killed at Rome. Thus, Vespasian, unexpectedly elevated from humble beginnings, now sought the divine prestige and authority befitting an emperor. This too would soon occur. When seated on the tribunal, a blind man and a lame man approached him together, begging to be healed 747, claiming that the god Serapis had appeared to them in a dream, instructing them that Vespasian would restore the blind man’s sight with his spittle and cure the lame man by touching his leg with his heel. Though doubtful, Vespasian at first hesitated to try; but encouraged by his friends, he attempted these miracles publicly before a great crowd, and both were successful 748. Around the same time, at Tegea in Arcadia, soothsayers directed that several ancient vessels be dug up from a consecrated site—these bore an image resembling Vespasian.

VIII. Returning to Rome with these omens and a great reputation, and after celebrating a triumph for his victory over the Jews, he added eight consulships 749 to his previous one. He also assumed the censorship and devoted himself throughout his reign to restoring order in a state that was almost on the verge of collapse, and then to improving it. The soldiers, some emboldened by victory and others demoralized by defeat, indulged in every kind of excess and insolence. Even the provinces, free cities, and allied kingdoms were unsettled. Vespasian dismissed many of Vitellius’s soldiers and punished others; indeed, he was so sparing of rewards that even the lawful gratuities to his own supporters were paid only after some delay. To correct military discipline, when a newly appointed cavalry commander thanked him while heavily perfumed, Vespasian turned away in disgust, sharply rebuked him—“I would rather you smelled of garlic”—and revoked his appointment. When sailors from the fleet traveling between Ostia and Puteoli petitioned for an increase in pay under the guise of “shoe-money,” thinking it pointless to dismiss them without a reply, he ordered that in future they go barefoot, a custom which continued ever after. He stripped Achaia, Lycia, Rhodes, Byzantium, and Samos of their autonomy, making them provinces, as he did for Thrace, Cilicia, and Comagene, which had previously been ruled by kings. He stationed legions in Cappadocia to defend against barbarian raids and, instead of a Roman knight, appointed a consul to govern the region. To erase the eyesore of burnt homes that had long disfigured the city, he gave anyone the right to claim and rebuild on ruined lots if the original owners declined to do so. He determined to reconstruct the Capitol, took the lead in clearing away rubble, and even carried off some on his own shoulders. He also undertook to restore the three thousand bronze tablets lost in the Capitol fire, searching far and wide for copies of these old records, which contained the senate’s decrees from nearly the city’s foundation, along with acts of the people related to alliances, treaties, and privileges granted to individuals.

IX. He also built several new public works: the temple of Peace 750 near the Forum, the temple of Claudius on the (453) Caelian mount—which had been started by Agrippina but was almost destroyed by Nero 751—and an amphitheatre 752 in the center of the city, noting that Augustus had originally planned such a structure. He revitalized the senatorial and equestrian orders, both of which had been considerably reduced and discredited by previous ruin and neglect. Removing the most unworthy, he replaced them with the most honorable men from Italy and the provinces. To make clear that the difference between the two orders was one of dignity, not privileges, he declared publicly, during a dispute between a senator and a knight, “Senators are not to be insulted unless they are the first offenders, and then it is fair and lawful to retaliate.”

X. The courts were overwhelmed with lawsuits, both old cases that had piled up during the previous disruption and new ones spawned by recent turbulence. Vespasian therefore selected commissioners by lot to restore property seized during the war and appointed others with special authority to resolve cases before the centumviri, reducing their number as much as possible—otherwise litigants could rarely live to see their case decided.

XI. Lust and excess, left unchecked for years, had reached alarming levels. He had the senate pass a decree that any woman who married another person’s slave would herself become a slave; and that moneylenders could not sue young men for money lent to them while they lived in their father’s house—not even after their fathers’ deaths.

XII. In all other areas, from the beginning to the end of his reign, he showed great moderation and clemency. Far from denying his humble origins, he often spoke of it himself. When others tried to connect his ancestry to the founders of Reate or a companion of Hercules 753 (whose tomb stood on the Salarian road), he mocked such claims. Uninterested in ostentatious honors, on the day of his triumph 754, weary of the drawn-out festivities, he could not help remarking that “he deserved it for foolishly desiring a triumph so late in life, as if it were owed to his ancestors, or had ever been expected by him.” For a long time, he refused both the tribunician authority and the title “Father of his Country.” He even abandoned the custom of searching those who approached to greet him, even during the civil war.

XIII. He tolerated his friends’ frankness, advocates’ sarcasm, and philosophers’ insolence with great patience. Licinius Mucianus, notorious for his debauchery and boldness due to his vital services, he reproved in private only; complaining to a mutual friend, he would say, “Still, I am only human.” When Salvius Liberalis, defending a wealthy client, dared to say, “What does it matter to Caesar if Hipparchus has a hundred million sesterces?” Vespasian praised him for it. When Demetrius the Cynic philosopher 755, sentenced to banishment, encountered Vespasian on the road and refused to stand up or greet him—going so far as to hurl insults—Vespasian merely called him a dog.

XIV. He was not inclined to remember grievances or nurse animosity. He arranged a magnificent marriage for the daughter of his enemy Vitellius, providing her with a suitable dowry and household. After being banished from Nero’s court and, in great distress, asking those around him what he should do or where he should go, one of the officials charged with introducing people to the emperor rudely pushed him out, telling him to go to Morbonia 756. Later, when this same person asked for forgiveness, Vespasian replied nearly in the same words. He was so little moved by suspicion or fear that, when friends suggested he beware Metius Pomposianus (since astrologers claimed Pomposianus was destined for the throne), Vespasian made him consul, assuring all that Pomposianus would not forget the favor.

XV. Scarcely any innocent person suffered during his reign, unless while Vespasian was absent or ignorant of the facts, or at least against his wishes and through deception. Helvidius Priscus 757 alone dared to greet him, upon his return from Syria, by his personal name, Vespasian, and when, as praetor, Helvidius refused to honor him in official edicts or mention him at all, Vespasian remained tolerant—even as Helvidius began publicly attacking him with abuse. Though Vespasian did ultimately banish him and later have him executed, he sincerely wished to spare him, sending messengers to recall the executioners, but was misinformed that Helvidius had already died. Vespasian never rejoiced at anyone’s death; in fact, he often wept and sighed even at the just punishment of the guilty.

XVI. The single just criticism of his character was his avarice. Not content with restoring taxes abolished by Galba, he imposed new and heavy ones, increased provincial tributes, and even doubled some. He went so far as to engage openly in business, buying up goods to resell at a profit—shameful even for a private citizen. He was not above selling important state offices to candidates and pardons to the accused, guilty or not. Some believe he deliberately promoted the most greedy procurators so that, after they accumulated wealth, he could “squeeze” them hard—a habit that made people say he used them like sponges: “soaking them when dry, squeezing them when wet.” Some say this greed was in his nature, as an old herdsman once remarked when Vespasian refused to grant him freedom for free: “The fox may change its fur, but not its nature.” Others believe necessity forced him to such measures, due to the near-emptiness of the treasury and exchequer, a situation he acknowledged publicly at the start of his reign by declaring that “not less than four hundred thousand million sesterces were needed to run the government.” This is plausible since he applied what he gained by questionable means to the best objectives.

XVII. Still, his generosity to every social class was immense. He supplied to numerous senators the property required by law for their office, supported impoverished consulars with an annual allowance of five hundred thousand sesterces 759, and rebuilt several cities throughout the empire that had been damaged by earthquakes or fires, making them even better than before.

XVIII. He was a great patron of learning and the liberal arts. He was the first to provide Latin and Greek rhetoric professors with an annual salary of one hundred thousand sesterces 760 from the state treasury. He also secured the citizenship of top poets and artists 761, generously rewarded the restorer of the Coan Venus 762, and another artist who repaired the Colossus 763. When someone offered to transport enormous columns into the Capitol at little cost using an ingenious device, he paid him well for the invention but declined the offer, saying, “Let me provide work for the poor.” 764

XIX. During the games held when the stage-scenery of the theatre of Marcellus 765 was repaired, he revived the old musical entertainments. He gave the tragedian Apollinaris four hundred thousand sesterces, and to Terpinus and Diodorus, both harpists, two hundred thousand each; to some a hundred thousand; and the least he gave any performer was forty thousand sesterces, in addition to many golden crowns. He frequently hosted dinners, often very splendid and elaborate, to promote trade and activity. Just as during the Saturnalia he gave gifts to the men, which they were to carry away with them, so he did to the women on the calends of March 766; yet, despite this, he could not shake off the reputation of his former stinginess. The Alexandrians kept calling him Cybiosactes, a name previously given to one of their kings who was notoriously greedy. In fact, at his funeral, Favo, the chief mimic, imitating him and his speaking style and gestures as actors do, loudly asked the procurators, “how much will his funeral and the procession cost?” And when told, “ten million sesterces,” he exclaimed, “Give him just a hundred thousand sesterces, and they could toss his body into the Tiber, if they wished.”

XX. He was broad-shouldered and strong-limbed, with features that made him appear as if he were straining. As a result, when he once asked a city wit “to say something funny about him,” the man wittily replied, “I will, when you’re finished relieving your bowels.” 767 He enjoyed good health, though he used no method to maintain it except repeated rubbing (459) as much as he could bear on his neck and other parts of his body, in the tennis-court attached to the baths, and by fasting one day each month.

XXI. His daily routine was generally as follows. After becoming emperor, he would rise very early, often before sunrise. Having read over his letters and the briefs from all government departments, he greeted his friends; and while they offered their compliments, he put on his own shoes and dressed himself without assistance. After taking care of any business brought before him, he rode out, then retired to rest, lying on his couch with one of his mistresses—he kept several after the death of Caenis 768. After leaving his private rooms, he went to the bath, then entered the dining hall. It’s said that he was never more good-natured or lenient than at such times, so his attendants always seized that opportunity to ask for favors.

XXII. At dinner, and at other times, he was extremely free-spoken and jovial. He had a sense of humor, though it was often coarse, and would use language at times as unrefined as that addressed to young girls at weddings. Still, there are some stories about him that reveal a clever kind of wit. For example, when Mestrius Florus reminded him that “plaustra” was the proper term rather than “plostra,” the next day he greeted him as “Flaurus.” 769 When a certain lady pretended to be desperately in love with him, he agreed to let her share his bed; and after satisfying her, he gave her 770 four hundred (460) thousand sesterces. When his steward asked how the sum should be entered in the accounts, he replied, “For Vespasian being seduced.”

XXIII. He sometimes used Greek verses in a witty way. Referring to a tall man who was especially well-endowed, he said:

Makxi bibas, kradon dolichoskion enchos;  
Still shaking, as he strode, his vast long spear.

Regarding Cerylus, a freedman who had grown wealthy and tried to pass as free-born, to avoid the exchequer at his death, and took the name Laches, he quipped:

——O Lachaes, Lachaes,  
Epan apothanaes, authis ex archaes esae Kaerylos.

Ah, Laches, Laches! when you are gone,  
You’ll be called Cerylus, just as before.

He often joked about his own notorious money-raising methods, trying to dispel criticism through humor. Once, when a favored minister asked for a stewardship for someone claiming to be his brother, Vespasian delayed granting it, then summoned the candidate himself and extracted as much money as he had promised to pay the minister, appointing him immediately. When the minister renewed his request, Vespasian said, “You’ll have to find another brother, for the one you adopted is now truly mine.”

On a journey, suspecting his mule-driver had stopped under false pretenses just so a litigant could approach him, he asked, “How much did you get for shoeing the mules?” and demanded a share of the profit. When his son Titus criticized him for taxing urine, he took a coin from the first installment of the tax, held it to Titus’s nose, and asked if it smelled bad. Titus said no, and Vespasian replied, “Yet it comes from urine.”

When deputies arrived announcing that a huge statue for him was being commissioned at great public expense, he told them to pay at once, holding out his hand and saying, “The base for the statue is ready.” Even when facing death, he couldn’t help joking. When the mausoleum of the Caesars suddenly swung open and a bright star appeared in the sky, seen as portents, he said one must concern Julia Calvina of Augustus’s family 771, and the other must concern the king of Parthia, who wore his hair long. When his illness first began, he remarked, “I suppose I’ll soon be a god.” 772

XXIV. In his ninth consulship, while in Campania, he was seized with a slight illness and immediately returned to the city. Not long after, he went to Cutiliae 773 and then to his country estates near Reate, where he always spent the summer. Even though his illness worsened, and he damaged his bowels from excessive use of the cold waters, he still attended to business and even received ambassadors in bed. At last, after being overcome by diarrhea and almost fainting, he cried out, “An emperor should die standing up.” As he tried to rise, he died in the hands of those helping him, on the eighth day before the calends of July 774, at the age of sixty-nine years, one month, and seven days.

XXV. Everyone agrees that he was confident in the predictions regarding both his own and his sons’ destinies, so much so that after several conspiracies against him, he told the senate that either his sons would succeed him or nobody would. It’s also said that, in a dream, he saw a balance in the portico of the Palatine house, perfectly even; in one (462) scale stood Claudius and Nero, in the other, himself and his sons. The results matched the omen, as both parties’ reigns lasted exactly the same length. 775

* * * * * *

With military power rather than lineage or adoption now the path to the imperial throne, no one had a better claim than Titus Flavius Vespasian. He had a strong reputation from his campaigns in both Britain and Judaea and was, at that time, untainted by any vice that could corrupt his government. Still, it seems that he sought imperial power more by persuasion from friends than by personal ambition. To strengthen his position, a new kind of strategy was used—one that played to the Romans' superstitions and made them believe that Vespasian’s rule was ordained by supernatural signs. Yet after his ascension, no more miraculous tales were told about him.

The campaign in Britain, which had been on hold for several years, was resumed by Vespasian, who sent Petilius Cerealis, whose boldness expanded the Roman province there. Under his successor, Julius Frontinus, the conquest continued. The general who finally secured Roman control of Britain, though, was Julius Agricola, renowned not only for his military success but also for his wise civil administration. He began with the conquest of North Wales, and crossing over into Anglesey—which had rebelled since the days of Suetonius Paulinus—he brought it back under Roman control. Then, advancing north with his victorious army, he defeated the Britons in every battle, seized all territories in the southern part of the island, and, driving before him those who refused Roman rule, pressed even into the forests and mountains of Caledonia. He defeated the native leader Galgacus in a decisive fight. By establishing a line of garrisons between the Firths of Clyde and Forth, he protected the Roman province from incursions by the peoples living beyond. Wherever he solidified Roman rule, he brought laws and civilization, using every means to win over the inhabitants and secure their loyalty.

The war in Judaea, begun under the previous emperor, continued under Vespasian, but it was his son Titus who conducted the siege of Jerusalem. Titus displayed great bravery and military skill in this campaign. Despite an obstinate defense by the Jews, the city so prominent in sacred writings was finally destroyed, and its magnificent temple—the wonder of the world—was reduced to ashes, though this happened against the wishes of Titus, who did all he could to put out the flames.

The manners of the Romans had now attained to an enormous pitch of depravity, through the unbounded licentiousness of the times; and, to the honour of Vespasian, he discovered great zeal in his endeavours to effect a national reformation. Vigilant, active, and persevering, he was indefatigable in the management of public affairs, and rose in the winter before day-break, to give audience to his officers of state. But if we give credit to the whimsical imposition of a tax upon urine, we cannot entertain any high opinion, either of his talents as a financier, or of the resources of the Roman empire. By his encouragement of science, he displayed a liberality, of which there occurs no example under all the preceding emperors, since the time of Augustus. Pliny the elder was now in the height of reputation, as well as in great favour with Vespasian; and it was probably owing not a little to the advice of that minister, that the emperor showed himself so much the patron of literary men. A writer mentioned frequently by Pliny, and who lived in this reign, was Licinius Mucianus, a Roman knight: he treated of the history and geography of the eastern countries. Juvenal, who had begun his Satires several years before, continued to inveigh against the flagrant vices of the times; but the only author whose writings we have to notice in the present reign, is a poet of a different class.

C. VALERIUS FLACCUS wrote a poem in eight books, on the Expedition of the Argonauts; a subject which, next to the wars of Thebes and Troy, was in ancient times the most celebrated. Of the life of this author, biographers have transmitted no particulars; but we may place his birth in the reign of Tiberius, before all the writers who flourished in the Augustan age were extinct. He enjoyed the rays of the setting sun which had illumined that glorious period, and he discovers the efforts of an ambition to recall its meridian splendour. As the poem was left (464) incomplete by the death of the author, we can only judge imperfectly of the conduct and general consistency of the fable: but the most difficult part having been executed, without any room for the censure of candid criticism, we may presume that the sequel would have been finished with an equal claim to indulgence, if not to applause. The traditional anecdotes relative to the Argonautic expedition are introduced with propriety, and embellished with the graces of poetical fiction. In describing scenes of tenderness, this author is happily pathetic, and in the heat of combat, proportionably animated. His similes present the imagination with beautiful imagery, and not only illustrate, but give additional force to the subject. We find in Flaccus a few expressions not countenanced by the authority of the most celebrated Latin writers. His language, however, in general, is pure; but his words are perhaps not always the best that might have been chosen. The versification is elevated, though not uniformly harmonious; and there pervades the whole poem an epic dignity, which renders it superior to the production ascribed to Orpheus, or to that of Apollonius, on the same subject.

## TITUS FLAVIUS VESPASIANUS AUGUSTUS.

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I. Titus, who had the same cognomen with his father, was the darling and delight of mankind; so much did the natural genius, address, or good fortune he possessed tend to conciliate the favour of all. This was, indeed, extremely difficult, after he became emperor, as before that time, and even during the reign of his father, he lay under public odium and censure. He was born upon the third of the calends of January, in the year remarkable for the death of Caius, near the Septizonium 777, in a mean house, and a very small and dark room, which still exists, and is shown to the curious.

II. He was educated in the palace with Britannicus, and instructed in the same branches of learning, and under the same masters. During this time, they say, that a physiognomist being introduced by Narcissus, the freedman of Claudius, to examine the features of Britannicus 778, positively affirmed that he would never become emperor, but that Titus, who stood by, would. They were so familiar, that Titus being next him at table, is thought to have tasted of the fatal potion which put an end to Britannicus’s life, and to have contracted from it a distemper which hung about him a long time. In remembrance of all these circumstances, he afterwards erected a golden statue of him in the Palatium, and dedicated to him an equestrian statue of ivory; attending it in the Circensian procession, in which it is still carried to this day.

(466) III. While yet a boy, he was remarkable for his noble endowments both of body and mind; and as he advanced in years, they became still more conspicuous. He had a fine person, combining an equal mixture of majesty and grace; was very strong, though not tall, and somewhat corpulent. Gifted with an excellent memory, and a capacity for all the arts of peace and war; he was a perfect master of the use of arms and riding; very ready in the Latin and Greek tongues, both in verse and prose; and such was the facility he possessed in both, that he would harangue and versify extempore. Nor was he unacquainted with music, but could both sing and play upon the harp sweetly and scientifically. I have likewise been informed by many persons, that he was remarkably quick in writing short-hand, would in merriment and jest engage with his secretaries in the imitation of any hand-writing he saw, and often say, “that he was admirably qualified for forgery.”

IV. He filled with distinction the rank of a military tribune both in Germany and Britain, in which he conducted himself with the utmost activity, and no less modesty and reputation; as appears evident from the great number of statues, with honourable inscriptions, erected to him in various parts of both those provinces. After serving in the wars, he frequented the courts of law, but with less assiduity than applause. About the same time, he married Arricidia, the daughter of Tertullus, who was only a knight, but had formerly been prefect of the pretorian guards. After her decease, he married Marcia Furnilla, of a very noble family, but afterwards divorced her, taking from her the daughter he had by her. Upon the expiration of his quaestorship, he was raised to the rank of commander of a legion 779, and took the two strong cities of Tarichaea and Gamala, in Judaea; and having his horse killed under him in a battle, he mounted another, whose rider he had encountered and slain.

V. Soon afterwards, when Galba came to be emperor, he was sent to congratulate him, and turned the eyes of all people upon himself, wherever he came; it being the general opinion amongst them, that the emperor had sent for him with a design to adopt him for his son. But finding all things again in confusion, he turned back upon the road; and going to consult (467) the oracle of Venus at Paphos about his voyage, he received assurances of obtaining the empire for himself. These hopes were speedily strengthened, and being left to finish the reduction of Judaea, in the final assault of Jerusalem, he slew seven of its defenders, with the like number of arrows, and took it upon his daughter’s birth-day 780. So great was the joy and attachment of the soldiers, that, in their congratulations, they unanimously saluted him by the title of Emperor 781; and, upon his quitting the province soon afterwards, would needs have detained him, earnestly begging him, and that not without threats, “either to stay, or take them all with him.” This occurrence gave rise to the suspicion of his being engaged in a design to rebel against his father, and claim for himself the government of the East; and the suspicion increased, when, on his way to Alexandria, he wore a diadem at the consecration of the ox Apis at Memphis; and, though he did it only in compliance with an ancient religious usage of the country, yet there was some who put a bad construction upon it. Making, therefore, what haste he could into Italy, he arrived first at Rhegium, and sailing thence in a merchant ship to Puteoli, went to Rome with all possible expedition. Presenting himself unexpectedly to his father, he said, by way of contradicting the strange reports raised concerning him, “I am come, father, I am come.”

VI. From that time he constantly acted as colleague with his father, and, indeed, as regent of the empire. He triumphed 782 (468) with his father, bore jointly with him the office of censor 783, and was, besides, his colleague not only in the tribunitian authority 784, but in seven consulships 785. Taking upon himself the care and inspection of all offices, he dictated letters, wrote proclamations in his father’s name, and pronounced his speeches in the senate in place of the quaestor. He likewise assumed the command of the pretorian guards, although no one but a Roman knight had ever before been their prefect. In this he conducted himself with great haughtiness and violence, taking off without scruple or delay all those he had most reason to suspect, after he had secretly sent his emissaries into the theatres and camp, to demand, as if by general consent, that the suspected persons should be delivered up to punishment. Among these, he invited to supper A. Caecina, a man of consular rank, whom he ordered to be stabbed at his departure, immediately after he had gone out of the room. To this act, indeed, he was provoked by an imminent danger; for he had discovered a writing under the hand of Caecina, containing an account of a plot hatched among the soldiers. By these acts, though he provided for his future security, yet for the present he so much incurred the hatred of the people, that scarcely ever any one came to the empire with a more odious character, or more universally disliked.

VII. Besides his cruelty, he lay under the suspicion of giving (469) way to habits of luxury, as he often prolonged his revels till midnight with the most riotous of his acquaintance. Nor was he unsuspected of lewdness, on account of the swarms of catamites and eunuchs about him, and his well-known attachment to queen Berenice 786, who received from him, as it is reported, a promise of marriage. He was supposed, besides, to be of a rapacious disposition; for it is certain, that, in causes which came before his father, he used to offer his interest for sale, and take bribes. In short, people publicly expressed an unfavourable opinion of him, and said he would prove another Nero. This prejudice, however, turned out in the end to his advantage, and enhanced his praises to the highest pitch when he was found to possess no vicious propensities, but, on the contrary, the noblest virtues. His entertainments were agreeable rather than extravagant; and he surrounded himself with such excellent friends, that the succeeding princes adopted them as most serviceable to themselves and the state. He immediately sent away Berenice from the city, much against both their inclinations. Some of his old eunuchs, though such accomplished dancers, that they bore an uncontrollable sway upon the stage, he was so far from treating with any extraordinary kindness, that he would not so much as witness their performances in the crowded theatre. He violated no private right; (470) and if ever man refrained from injustice, he did; nay, he would not accept of the allowable and customary offerings. Yet, in munificence, he was inferior to none of the princes before him. Having dedicated his amphitheatre 787, and built some warm baths 788 close by it with great expedition, he entertained the people with most magnificent spectacles. He likewise exhibited a naval fight in the old Naumachia, besides a combat of gladiators; and in one day brought into the theatre five thousand wild beasts of all kinds. 789

(471) VIII. He was by nature extremely benevolent; for whereas all the emperors after Tiberius, according to the example he had set them, would not admit the grants made by former princes to be valid, unless they received their own sanction, he confirmed them all by one general edict, without waiting for any applications respecting them. Of all who petitioned for any favour, he sent none away without hopes. And when his ministers represented to him that he promised more than he could perform, he replied, “No one ought to go away downcast from an audience with his prince.” Once at supper, reflecting that he had done nothing for any that day, he broke out into that memorable and justly-admired saying, “My friends, I have lost a day.” 790 More particularly, he treated the people on all occasions with so much courtesy, that, on his presenting them with a show of gladiators, he declared, “He should manage it, not according to his own fancy, but that of the spectators,” and did accordingly. He denied them nothing, and very frankly encouraged them to ask what they pleased. Espousing the cause of the Thracian party among the gladiators, he frequently joined in the popular demonstrations in their favour, but without compromising his dignity or doing injustice. To omit no opportunity of acquiring popularity, he sometimes made use himself of the baths he had erected, without excluding the common people. There happened in his reign some dreadful accidents; an eruption of Mount Vesuvius 791, in Campania, and a fire in Rome, which continued during three days and three nights 792; besides a plague, such as was scarcely ever known before. Amidst these many great disasters, he not only manifested the concern (472) which might be expected from a prince but even the affection of a father, for his people; one while comforting them by his proclamations, and another while relieving them to the utmost of his power. He chose by lot, from amongst the men of consular rank, commissioners for repairing the losses in Campania. The estates of those who had perished by the eruption of Vesuvius, and who had left no heirs, he applied to the repair of the ruined cities. With regard to the public buildings destroyed by fire in the City, he declared that nobody should be a loser but himself. Accordingly, he applied all the ornaments of his palaces to the decoration of the temples, and purposes of public utility, and appointed several men of the equestrian order to superintend the work. For the relief of the people during the plague, he employed, in the way of sacrifice and medicine, all means both human and divine. Amongst the calamities of the times, were informers and their agents; a tribe of miscreants who had grown up under the licence of former reigns. These he frequently ordered to be scourged or beaten with sticks in the Forum, and then, after he had obliged them to pass through the amphitheatre as a public spectacle, commanded them to be sold for slaves, or else banished them to some rocky islands. And to discourage such practices for the future, amongst other things, he prohibited actions to be successively brought under different laws for the same cause, or the state of affairs of deceased persons to be inquired into after a certain number of years.

IX. Having declared that he accepted the office of Pontifex Maximus for the purpose of preserving his hands undefiled, he faithfully adhered to his promise. For after that time he was neither directly nor indirectly concerned in the death of any person, though he sometimes was justly irritated. He swore “that he would perish himself, rather than prove the destruction of any man.” Two men of patrician rank being convicted of aspiring to the empire, he only advised them to desist, saying, “that the sovereign power was disposed of by fate,” and promised them, that if there was any thing else they desired of him, he would grant it. He also immediately sent messengers to the mother of one of them, who was at a great distance, and in deep anxiety about her son, to assure her of his safety. Nay, he not only invited them to sup with (473) him, but next day, at a show of gladiators, purposely placed them close by him; and handed to them the arms of the combatants for his inspection. It is said likewise, that having had their nativities cast, he assured them, “that a great calamity was impending on both of them, but from another hand, and not from his.” Though his brother was continually plotting against him, almost openly stirring up the armies to rebellion, and contriving to get away, yet he could not endure to put him to death, or to banish him from his presence; nor did he treat him with less respect than before. But from his first accession to the empire, he constantly declared him his partner in it, and that he should be his successor; begging of him sometimes in private, with tears in his eyes, “to return the affection he had for him.”

X. Amidst all these favourable circumstances, he was cut off by an untimely death, more to the loss of mankind than himself. At the close of the public spectacles, he wept bitterly in the presence of the people, and then retired into the Sabine country 793, rather melancholy, because a victim had made its escape while he was sacrificing, and loud thunder had been heard while the atmosphere was serene. At the first resting-place on the road, he was seized with a fever, and being carried forward in a litter, they say that he drew back the curtains, and looked up to heaven, complaining heavily, “that his life was taken from him, though he had done nothing to deserve it; for there was no action of his that he had occasion to repent of, but one.” What that was, he neither disclosed himself, nor is it easy for us to conjecture. Some imagine that he alluded to the connection which he had formerly had with his brother’s wife. But Domitia solemnly denied it on oath; which she would never have done, had there been any truth in the report; nay, she would certainly have gloried in it, as she was forward enough to boast of all her scandalous intrigues.

XI. He died in the same villa where his father had died (474) before him, upon the Ides of September \[the 13th of September\]; two years, two months, and twenty days after he had succeeded his father; and in the one-and-fortieth year of his age 794. As soon as the news of his death was published, all people mourned for him, as for the loss of some near relative. The senate assembled in haste, before they could be summoned by proclamation, and locking the doors of their house at first, but afterwards opening them, gave him such thanks, and heaped upon him such praises, now he was dead, as they never had done whilst he was alive and present amongst them.

* * * * * *

TITUS FLAVIUS VESPASIAN, the younger, was the first prince who succeeded to the empire by hereditary right; and having constantly acted, after his return from Judaea, as colleague with his father in the administration, he seemed to be as well qualified by experience as he was by abilities for conducting the affairs of the empire. But with respect to his natural disposition and moral behaviour, the expectations entertained by the public were not equally flattering. He was immoderately addicted to luxury; he had betrayed a strong inclination to cruelty; and he lived in the habitual practice of lewdness, no less unnatural than intemperate. But, with a degree of virtuous resolution unexampled in history, he had no sooner taken into his hands the entire reins of government than he renounced every vicious attachment. Instead of wallowing in luxury, as before, he became a model of temperance; instead of cruelty, he displayed the strongest proofs of humanity and benevolence; and in the room of lewdness, he exhibited a transition to the most unblemished chastity and virtue. In a word, so sudden and great a change was never known in the character of mortal; and he had the peculiar glory to receive the appellation of “the darling and delight of mankind.”

Under a prince of such a disposition, the government of the empire could not but be conducted with the strictest regard to the public welfare. The reform which was begun in the late reign, he prosecuted with the most ardent application; and, had he lived for a longer time, it is probable that his authority and example would have produced the most beneficial effects upon the manners of the Romans.

During the reign of this emperor, in the seventy-ninth year of (475) the Christian era, happened the first eruption of Mount Vesuvius, which has ever since been celebrated for its volcano. Before this time, Vesuvius is spoken of, by ancient writers, as being covered with orchards and vineyards, and of which the middle was dry and barren. The eruption was accompanied by an earthquake, which destroyed several cities of Campania, particularly Pompeii and Herculaneum; while the lava, pouring down the mountain in torrents, overwhelmed, in various directions, the adjacent plains. The burning ashes were carried not only over the neighbouring country, but as far as the shores of Egypt, Libya, and even Syria. Amongst those to whom this dreadful eruption proved fatal was Pliny, the celebrated naturalist, whose curiosity to examine the phenomenon led him so far within the verge of danger that he could not afterwards escape.

PLINY, surnamed the Elder, was born at Verona, of a noble family. He distinguished himself early by his military achievements in the German war, received the dignity of an Augur at Rome, and was afterwards appointed governor of Spain. In every public character, he acquitted himself with great reputation, and enjoyed the esteem of the several emperors under whom he lived. The assiduity with which he applied himself to the collection of information, either curious or useful, surpasses all example. From an early hour in the morning until late at night, he was almost constantly employed in discharging the duties of his public station, in reading or hearing books read by his amanuensis, and in extracting from them whatever seemed worthy of notice. Even during his meals, and while travelling in his carriage upon business, he prosecuted with unremitting zeal and diligence his taste for enquiry and compilation. No man ever displayed so strong a persuasion of the value of time, or availed himself so industriously of it. He considered every moment as lost which was not employed in literary pursuits. The books which he wrote, in consequence of this indefatigable exertion, were, according to the account transmitted by his nephew, Pliny the younger, numerous, and on various subjects. The catalogue of them is as follows: a book on Equestrian Archery, which discovered much skill in the art; the Life of Q. Pomponius Secundus; twenty books of the Wars of Germany; a complete treatise on the Education of an Orator, in six volumes; eight books of Doubtful Discourses, written in the latter part of the reign of Nero, when every kind of moral discussion was attended with danger; with a hundred and sixty volumes of remarks on the writings of the various authors which he had perused. For the last-mentioned production only, and before it was brought near to its accomplishment, we are told, that he (476) was offered by Largius Licinius four hundred thousand sesterces, amounting to upwards of three thousand two hundred pounds sterling; an enormous sum for the copyright of a book before the invention of printing! But the only surviving work of this voluminous author is his Natural History, in thirty-seven books, compiled from the various writers who had treated of that extensive and interesting subject.

If we judge this great work by the accuracy of its information or its usefulness in advancing the arts and sciences, we might not regard it as deserving extraordinary praise. However, as a literary monument—one that displays all the knowledge of the ancients in Natural History, collected over nearly seven hundred years since the time of Thales the Milesian—it rightfully claims the attention of any thoughtful scholar. It is not surprising that while progress in moral science among the Greeks and Romans was rapid after inquiry began, the advancement in branches of knowledge based strictly on observation and facts was slow. Such knowledge, especially Natural History, could only be perfected by conducting investigations in various climates and by exchanging discoveries among those who studied them. But these investigations and exchanges could not be successfully conducted while much of the world remained in barbarism, navigation was slow and limited, and before the art of printing existed. Recognizing these circumstances provides enough explanation for the imperfect state of natural science among the ancients. We now proceed to summarize the breadth of their achievements as they appear in Pliny’s compilation.

This work consists of thirty-seven books. The first contains the Preface, addressed to Emperor Vespasian, likely the father, whom the author highly praises. The second book discusses the world, the elements, and the stars. Regarding the universe, the author’s view matches that of several ancient philosophers: that it is a Deity—uncreated, infinite, and eternal. Predictably, their ideas on such an incomprehensible topic are vague, confused, and incomplete. In another chapter of the same book, where the nature of the Deity is discussed more specifically, the author demonstrates an inadequate grasp of infinite power; to console humans for their own limitations, he notes there are things even beyond the power of the Supreme Being—such as the power to end his own existence, or, as the author adds, the ability to make mortals eternal or raise the dead. It is notable that while the idea of a future state of rewards and punishments was supported by the most notable ancient philosophers, the resurrection of the body was entirely foreign to them.

The author then examines the planets and their periods of revolution, the stars, comets, winds, thunder, lightning, and other natural phenomena. He presents the theories held by the ancients and recalls various remarkable events that occurred in different parts of the world. The third book offers a general system of geography, which continues through the fourth, fifth, and sixth books. The seventh treats of conception and human generation, along with various miscellaneous observations unrelated to the main subject. The eighth discusses quadrupeds; the ninth, aquatic animals; the tenth, birds; the eleventh, insects and reptiles; the twelfth, trees; the thirteenth, ointments and trees growing near the seacoast; the fourteenth, vines; the fifteenth, fruit trees; the sixteenth, forest trees; the seventeenth, cultivation of trees; the eighteenth, agriculture; the nineteenth, the nature of flax, hemp, and similar products; the twentieth, the medicinal qualities of vegetables grown in gardens; the twenty-first, flowers; the twenty-second, the properties of herbs; the twenty-third, medicines derived from cultivated trees; the twenty-fourth, medicines from forest trees; the twenty-fifth, properties of wild herbs and the origin of their uses; the twenty-sixth, other remedies for diseases, including some newly recognized ones; the twenty-seventh, various kinds of herbs; the twenty-eighth, twenty-ninth, and thirtieth, medicines obtained from animals; the thirty-first and thirty-second, medicines from aquatic animals, featuring some remarkable accounts related to the topic; the thirty-third, the nature of metals; the thirty-fourth, brass, iron, lead, and tin; the thirty-fifth, painting and observations on pictures; the thirty-sixth, the nature of stones and marbles; the thirty-seventh, the origin of gems. Each book concludes with a list of the sources from which the author gathered his information.

It might be presumptuous to judge Pliny’s talents as a writer solely from his Natural History, since it is openly a compilation from various authors and focuses more on substance than style. However, granting a certain credulity typical of early physical investigations, he is far from lacking the essential qualities of a Natural History writer. His descriptions are generally accurate, his observations precise, his narrative mostly clear, and he often enlivens his topics with vivid thought and an effective choice of words. He strives both to give freshness to worn-out discussions and authority to novel observations. He has worked to remove the confusion and obscurity that surrounded many ancient teachings, but, for all his diligence, he has dispelled fewer errors and supported more questionable views than a truly impartial and rigorous investigator should have.

Pliny was fifty-six years old at the time of his death; the circumstances of which are thoroughly described by his nephew, the graceful Pliny the Younger, in a letter to Tacitus, who intended to write the life of the naturalist.

## TITUS FLAVIUS DOMITIANUS.

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I. Domitian was born on the ninth day before the calends of November, while his father was consul-elect (due to take office the next month), in the city’s sixth region, at the Pomegranate 796, in the house he later made into a temple for the Flavian family. It is said that his early years were marked by such poverty and disgrace that he owned not even a single piece of silverware. It is well known that Clodius Pollio, a man of praetorian rank (against whom a poem of Nero’s, called Luscio, survives), kept a note in Domitian’s handwriting recording an assignation between them for reprehensible purposes. Some also claimed that he prostituted himself to Nerva, who later succeeded him. During the war with Vitellius, he fled into the Capitol with his uncle Sabinus and part of their city garrison. But when the enemy broke in and the temple was set on fire, he hid overnight with the sacristan; then, disguised as a worshipper of Isis and mingling with the priests of that cult, he crossed the Tiber 798 with only one attendant, finding shelter in the home of the mother of a school friend, where he stayed so successfully hidden that, despite thorough searches by his pursuers, he was not found. Eventually, after his party’s victory, he appeared in public, was greeted as Caesar, and took the office of City Praetor with consular authority, though in fact he held only the title, leaving the jurisdiction to his next colleague. Nevertheless, he abused his authority so much that he made clear even then what kind of ruler he would become. To give one example: after seducing the wives of many notable men, he took Domitia Longina from her husband, Aelias Lamia, and married her; he also filled more than twenty offices in the city and provinces in a single day—prompting Vespasian to remark on several occasions, “I’m surprised he doesn’t send me a successor, too.”

II. He also planned a campaign into Gaul and Germany 799 without the slightest necessity and against the advice of all his father’s friends, only to try to match his brother’s military achievements and glory. For this he was sternly reprimanded and, to remind him of his age and standing, was required to live with his father, his litter following behind the carriages of his father and brother whenever they went out; as for their triumph for the conquest of Judaea 800, he rode with them on a white horse. Of the six consulships he held, only one was of the regular kind, which he obtained through his brother’s influence. He made a show of modesty and especially prided himself on his interest in poetry, so much so that he recited his own poems in public, though it was a craft he had rarely practiced before and came to neglect afterwards. Even so, during this period when he was so devoted to poetry, when Vologesus, king of the Parthians, requested Roman troops to fight the Alani under the command of one of Vespasian’s sons, Domitian tried hard to secure that appointment for himself. When this plan failed, he even tried to persuade other eastern kings to make a similar request by offering gifts and promises. After his father’s death, he considered offering the soldiers a donative double that of his brother’s and was not shy about saying, “I was made partner in the empire, but my father’s will was fraudulently set aside.” From then on, he plotted against his brother both openly and secretly, until, falling dangerously ill, he told all his attendants to leave him under the pretense that he was dead, before that was actually the case, and after his brother’s death only honored him by placing him among the gods, while in speeches and edicts, he often slighted his memory with jokes and hints.

III. Early in his reign, Domitian spent an hour daily in private doing nothing but catching flies and skewering them with a sharp pin. When someone asked whether anyone was with the emperor, Vibius Crispus famously replied, “Not even a fly.” Soon after coming to power, his wife Domitia—by whom he had a son during his second consulship and whom, the following year, he granted the title Augusta—fell desperately in love with Paris, the actor, so Domitian sent her away; but soon after, unable to tolerate the separation, he took her back, claiming it was at the people’s request. For a while, his rule combined virtue and vice, until eventually even his virtues turned into vices—he seems, based on his character, to have been driven to greed by need, and to cruelty by fear.

IV. He often provided the people with lavish and expensive entertainments, both in the amphitheatre and the circus. Besides the usual races with two- or four-horse chariots, he staged battles between horse and foot soldiers, as well as naval battles in the amphitheatre. The people also enjoyed wild beast hunts and gladiator contests—sometimes even at night, by torchlight. These spectacles sometimes featured women as combatants. He regularly attended the games given by the quaestors—recently revived by himself after a period of neglect—and on those occasions allowed the people to demand two pairs of gladiators from his own school, who appeared last, wearing court uniforms. At every gladiator show, a little boy with a tiny head, dressed in scarlet, stood at his feet; he often conversed with this child, sometimes seriously. Reportedly, he was once overheard asking, “Do you know why I recently made Metius Rufus governor of Egypt?” He gave the people naval battles performed by fleets nearly as large as those used in real warfare, creating a vast lake near the Tiber 801 and building seats all round for the audience, and attended himself in heavy rain. He also celebrated the Secular Games 802, not from the year when Claudius had held them, but from the time of Augustus’s celebration. In these games, during the Circensian sports, to allow for a hundred races, he reduced each race from seven laps to five. He also instituted, in honor of Jupiter Capitolinus, a solemn music contest to be held every five years, with horse-racing and gymnastic events, offering more prizes than usual. There were also public competitions in elocution, both in Greek and Latin; musicians played to the harp, and others performed solos or group pieces without singing. Young girls even ran races in the Stadium, with Domitian presiding, dressed in a purple Greek-style robe and wearing a golden crown bearing the images of Jupiter, Juno, and Minerva, accompanied by the high priest and the college of priests in similar dress (except their crowns included his image). He also celebrated every year, on the Alban mount, a festival for Minerva, for whom he had established a college of priests, selecting, by lot, presidents who had to entertain the people with extraordinary animal hunts, plays, and contests of rhetoric and poetry. Three times he gave three hundred sesterces to every citizen, and, at a gladiator show, hosted a very plentiful feast. For the Festival of the Seven Hills 803, he handed out large baskets of food to the senators and equestrians, and smaller baskets to the ordinary people, even leading by example to encourage them to eat. The next day, he scattered cakes and other treats for them to fight over, and when most fell among the seats, he ordered 500 tickets to be thrown among each section for the senators and equestrians.

V. He rebuilt many impressive buildings destroyed by fire, including the Capitol, which had burned down a second time 804; but all inscriptions only bore his name, with no reference to the original founders. He also built a new temple to Jupiter Custos in the Capitol, a forum (now called Nerva’s 805), a temple for the Flavian family 806, a stadium 807, an odeum 808, and a naumachia 809; from the stone quarried for the naumachia, he rebuilt the burnt sides of the Circus Maximus.

VI. He launched several campaigns, some by choice and others out of necessity. His war against the Catti 810 was unprovoked; the campaign against the Sarmatians, however, was required after they wiped out a whole legion and its commander. He sent two expeditions against the Dacians: the first after the death of Oppius Sabinus (a consul) and the second after the defeat of Cornelius Fuscus (the praetorian prefect he had put in command of the war). Following several battles with the Catti and Dacians, he celebrated a double triumph, but for his Sarmatian victories he only wore a laurel crown to Jupiter Capitolinus. He put down the civil war started by Lucius Antonius, governor of Upper Germany, without needing to be present himself, thanks to a stroke of luck: as the battle was about to begin, the Rhine suddenly thawed, preventing the barbarians allied with Antonius from crossing. He received news of his victory in advance through various portents—on the day of the battle, an eagle was seen joyfully spreading its wings around his statue in Rome; soon afterward rumors spread that Antonius was dead, and some even claimed to see his head brought into the city.

VII. He made many changes in general customs. He abolished the customary distribution of food baskets (Sportula 811) and brought back formal public suppers. He added two new teams—gold and scarlet—to the four traditional factions in the games. He prohibited actors from performing in public theaters, though he allowed them to practice in private homes. He banned the castration of males and lowered the price of eunuchs remaining in the hands of slave traders. With wine plentiful but corn scarce, he suspected that too much land was being used for vineyards at the expense of grain, so he issued a proclamation forbidding new vineyards in Italy and ordering that, in the provinces, half should be cut down 812 (but he did not persist in this policy). He gave some of the top offices to freedmen and soldiers. He also forbade two legions from sharing a camp and restricted soldiers from depositing more than a thousand sesterces with the standards, believing that Lucius Antonius had been encouraged in recent unrest by the large sum collected by two legions then wintering together. He also increased soldiers’ pay by three gold pieces a year.

VIII. He was diligent and attentive in the administration of justice, frequently sitting in the Forum to overturn decisions of the One Hundred, when they had been influenced by favoritism or special interests. He advised the judges of the court of recovery to avoid being too quick to accept claims for freedom. Judges found guilty of taking bribes, and even their assistants, were publicly disgraced. He encouraged the tribunes to prosecute a corrupt aedile for extortion, and urged the senate to appoint judges for the trial. He ensured strict punishment for corrupt city magistrates and provincial governors, so that at no time were the officials more moderate or just; since his reign many have faced charges for various crimes. By reforming public morals, he prevented the general populace from sitting among the knights at the theater. He suppressed scandalous libels against people of rank, inflicting public dishonor on their authors. He expelled a man of quaestorian rank from the senate for engaging in mimicry and dancing, and barred disgraceful women from using litters or inheriting property. He removed a knight from the list of judges for remarrying his divorced wife after she’d been convicted of adultery. He convicted several senators and equestrians under the Scantinian law 813. He severely punished the unchaste behavior of the Vestal Virgins overlooked by his father and brother—older offenses with death, recent ones by traditional penalties. The two sisters called Ocellatae were allowed to choose their mode of death, and their lovers were banished (486). Cornelia, head of the Vestals, acquitted once of unchastity but later convicted, was ordered buried alive; her lovers were beaten to death in the Comitium, except for a praetorian, who confessed while the case was uncertain—even under torture—so Domitian granted him banishment. To maintain the sanctity of divine reverence, he ordered soldiers to destroy a tomb that one of his freedmen had constructed for his son with stone intended for the temple of Jupiter Capitolinus, and had the buried remains thrown into the sea.

IX. On first gaining power, Domitian was so averse to bloodshed that, before his father’s arrival in Rome, recalling Virgil’s verse,

Impia quam caesis gens est epulata juvencis, 814

Ere impious man, restrain’d from blood in vain,  
Began to feast on flesh of bullocks slain,

he considered issuing a proclamation to forbid sacrificing oxen. Before and for some time after becoming emperor, he scarcely showed the least sign of greed or avarice; in fact, he frequently gave proof of his justice and generosity. He was lavish with his associates and urged them above all to shun anything base. He refused to accept inheritances from those with children of their own. He declined a legacy left by Ruscus Caepio, who stipulated in his will that his heir should give every senator a present at their first meeting of the year. He cleared those who had long been under treasury prosecution unless legal action was renewed within a year—and with the risk that the accuser would be banished if unsuccessful. He pardoned the quaestors’ clerks for earlier trading activities that broke the Clodian law 815 but were in line with custom. Any remaining public lands originally given to veteran soldiers he restored to longtime possessors as rightful by prescription. He put a stop to false informers in the treasury by punishing them severely; and his saying was well-known: “A prince who does not punish informers, encourages them.”

X. However, he did not long continue in this path of kindness and justice, falling into cruelty before greed. He put to death a minor student of Paris the pantomime, though sick, simply because he resembled his teacher both in appearance and art; similarly, he executed Hermogenes of Tarsus for a subtle offensive remark in his History, and crucified the scribes who copied the work. A trainer of gladiators, having said that “a Thrax could match a Marmillo but not the manager of the games,” was dragged from the stands into the arena and given to the dogs, with a placard: “A Parmularian 818 guilty of blasphemy.” He killed many senators, including several consulars, such as Civica Cerealis while proconsul of Africa, Salvidienus Orfitus, and Acilius Glabrio in exile, on the suspicion of intending to revolt. Others suffered over minor reasons: Aelius Lamia, for past harmless jests—when, after Domitian had taken his wife, Lamia complimented his voice and remarked, “Alas! I hold my tongue.” When Titus advised him to marry again, he replied, “What! Do you want to marry?” Salvius Cocceianus was condemned for keeping his uncle Otho the emperor’s birthday; Metius Pomposianus, because of rumors regarding his imperial horoscope and for having a map of the world and speeches from Titus Livius, and for giving his slaves Carthaginian names; Sallustius Lucullus, lieutenant in Britain, for naming new lances “Lucullean”; Junius Rusticus, for publishing a work praising Paetus Thrasea and Helvidius Priscus as “most upright men.” On this occasion, Domitian banished all philosophers from Rome and Italy. He executed the younger Helvidius for writing a play that mocked his divorce using the characters Paris and Oenone; and Flavius Sabinus, a cousin, because at the consular election, the public crier mistakenly proclaimed him emperor rather than consul. Becoming even more vicious after the civil war, Domitian hunted down supporters of the opposing side, torturing many with a new device that inserted fire into their private parts; he mutilated others by cutting off their hands. Only two persons of standing escaped punishment: a tribune and a centurion who, to clear themselves of rebellion, proved instead that they were guilty of prostitution, thus unfit for leadership or influence.

XI. His cruelties were not only excessive but also subtle and unexpected. The day before he crucified a collector of his rents, he summoned the man into his bedchamber, had him sit beside him on the bed, and sent him away well satisfied and apparently in perfect safety; even granting him the honor of a plate of food from his own table. When he was about to condemn Aretinus Clemens—a man of consular rank, and among his friends and agents—to death, he continued to keep Clemens close, showing him the same or even greater favor as before; until finally, while they were riding together in the same litter, he caught sight of the informer and said, “Shall we hear this villain tomorrow?” Showing contempt for human patience, he never delivered a severe sentence without first offering words that raised hopes of mercy; so eventually, nothing was a more certain sign of a fatal outcome than a gentle introduction. He brought some people accused of treason before the senate, announcing, “Today I shall prove how dear I am to the senate,” and influenced them to condemn the accused according to ancient custom. Then, as if alarmed by the harshness of the punishment, he tried to mitigate the public outrage of the event by intervening with these words—which it is not irrelevant to repeat exactly as he spoke them: “Permit me, Conscript Fathers, to prevail just this once on your affection for me, however extraordinary the request may appear, and grant the condemned men the favor of dying in whatever way they prefer. In doing so, you will spare your own eyes, and the world will understand that I pleaded with the senate on their behalf.”

XII. After exhausting the treasury with his building projects, public games, and the increased pay recently given to the troops, he tried to reduce the size of the army to cut military expenses. But realizing that this would leave him vulnerable to foreign enemies without resolving his financial troubles, he turned to plundering his subjects through every means of extortion. The estates of both the living and the dead were seized on any accusation, no matter who made it. The uncorroborated claim of a single individual—concerning any word or act that could be interpreted as an insult to the emperor—was enough. Inheritances to which he had no right were confiscated, if just one person claimed to have heard the deceased, while still alive, say, “I have made the emperor my heir.” In addition to these extortions, the poll-tax on the Jews was enforced with extreme strictness, imposed not only on those in the city living as Jews without openly declaring it, but also on others who concealed their origins to avoid the tax. I recall, as a youth, being present when an old man of ninety was stripped before a crowded court so the procurator could verify whether he was circumcised.

From early on, Domitian was known for being discourteous, presumptuous, and extravagant in both speech and actions. When Caenis, his father’s concubine, returned from Istria and offered him the usual kiss, he gave her his hand to kiss instead. Upset that his brother’s son-in-law was attended by servants dressed in white, he exclaimed,

ouk agathon polykoiraniae.  
Too many rulers are not good.

XIII. After becoming emperor, he had the nerve to boast to the senate, “I gave the empire to my father and brother, and they have restored it to me.” And when he took back his wife after divorcing her, he proclaimed, “I have recalled her to my couch.” He was greatly pleased when, in the amphitheater during a festival, the people shouted, “All happiness to our lord and lady!” However, when at the Capitoline games, the crowd unanimously begged him to reinstate Palfurius Sura to the senate—Sura having won the prize for eloquence—he gave them no response except to order silence by way of a public crier. With similar arrogance, he dictated that his procurators begin official letters with: “Our lord and god orders so and so;” and this became the expected form of address to him in writing or speech. He allowed no statues of himself in the Capitol unless they were made of gold or silver and of a specific weight. He built so many magnificent gates and arches, each topped with four-horse chariots and other triumphal decorations throughout the city, that a wit wrote on one arch in Greek: Axkei, “Enough.” He served as consul seventeen times—more than anyone before him—and for seven consecutive years in the middle of his reign; but rarely held the office past May 1 and often only until January 13. After two triumphs, assuming the cognomen Germanicus, he renamed September and October as Germanicus and Domitian, in honor of the months of his accession and birth, respectively.

XIV. By such behavior, he became universally feared and hated, and was ultimately assassinated in a conspiracy involving his friends, favored freedmen, and his wife. He had long suspected the year, day, and even hour and manner of his death, all of which he had learned from the Chaldeans as a youth. His father once mocked him at dinner for refusing mushrooms, saying that if he truly knew his fate, he ought to fear the sword instead. Tormented by constant anxiety, he became highly sensitive to the slightest suspicion—even, it is believed, rescinding an edict to destroy vines because people had written these lines on distributed copies:

Kaen me phagaes epi rizanomos epi kartophoraeso,  
Osson epispeisai Kaisari thuomeno.

Gnaw thou my root, yet shall my juice suffice  
To pour on Caesar’s head in sacrifice.

He declined a new honor invented and offered by the senate, even though he was greedy for such distinctions. The proposal was that, whenever he held the consulship, selected Roman knights would walk before him dressed in the Trabea, carrying lances, among his lictors and attendants. As the time of his expected danger drew closer, his anxiety only increased; he went so far as to line the walls of his walking galleries with Phengites stone, in order to see reflections of everything behind him. He rarely granted private audience to prisoners except alone, personally holding their chains. To show his household that a master’s life must never be threatened under any pretense, he executed his secretary Epaphroditus, who was believed to have helped Nero kill himself in his final moments.

XV. His last victim was Flavius Clemens, his cousin, a man held in contempt for his lack of spirit, whose two young sons Domitian had openly chosen as his heirs, renaming them Vespasian and Domitian. Nevertheless, he suddenly executed Clemens based on some trivial suspicion, scarcely after his consulship had ended. This decisive act hastened his own demise. For eight months, there were relentless lightning strikes in Rome and similar reports came from elsewhere, until he finally exclaimed, “Let him strike whomever he chooses now.” Lightning struck the Capitol, the temple of the Flavian family, the Palatine palace, and even Domitian’s own bedchamber. The inscription tablet from his triumphal statue was blown off and landed on a nearby monument. The tree that had fallen and then risen just before Vespasian’s rise, suddenly fell again. The goddess Fortune of Praeneste—to whom he would commend the empire on New Year’s Day, always receiving favorable replies—finally gave him a gloomy answer, mentioning blood. He dreamed that Minerva, whom he worshipped with superstitious devotion, abandoned her shrine, saying she could protect him no longer—she too had been disarmed by Jupiter. What affected him most, however, was an astrologer named Ascletario, and the man’s fate. Having been accused and openly admitting that he had foretold future events from his art, Domitian asked what end he foresaw for himself. Ascletario said, “I shall soon be torn to pieces by dogs.” Domitian had him killed immediately and ordered him to be carefully buried to prove the futility of his craft. Yet, while preparations for burial were underway, a violent storm knocked over the funeral pyre, and dogs devoured the half-burned body. This was noticed by Latinus, the comic actor, who mentioned it to the emperor at supper as part of the day’s news.

XVI. The day before his death, Domitian ordered some dates on the table to be kept for the following day, saying, “If I am lucky enough to eat them.” Turning to those nearest him, he remarked, “Tomorrow the moon in Aquarius will be bloody, not watery, and something will happen that everyone will talk about worldwide.” Around midnight, he became so frightened that he leaped out of bed. That morning, he tried and sentenced a soothsayer from Germany who, after being consulted about the recent lightning, predicted a change of government. As blood flowed from his face when he scratched an ulcer on his forehead, he said, “Would that this were all that I have to fear!” Then, when he asked for the time, and—dreading five o’clock—they deceitfully told him it was six. Overjoyed, believing danger had passed, he hurried to the bath. Parthenius, his chamberlain, stopped him, saying someone had urgent business. Ordering everyone else away, Domitian retreated to his chamber, where he was killed.

XVII. The commonly accepted account of his death is this: The conspirators were unsure whether to attack him during his bath or at supper. Stephanus, a steward of Domitilla’s, who was facing charges for cheating his mistress, offered his help and advice. For several days, he wrapped his left arm in wool and bandages, pretending he was injured to avoid suspicion, and at the chosen hour hid a dagger within. Gaining an audience under the pretense of uncovering a plot, he handed Domitian a document; while Domitian read it, Stephanus stabbed him in the groin. Though wounded, Domitian resisted; Clodianus, one of his guards; Maximus, a freedman of Parthenius; Saturius, his chief chamberlain; and some gladiators then stabbed him seven more times. A boy attending to the household gods in the bedchamber reported further that Domitian, after being wounded, ordered him to fetch a dagger from under the pillow and summon his staff, but the boy could only find the hilt of a dagger, and every door was locked. As the emperor struggled with Stephanus—attempting now to seize the dagger, now, despite his mangled fingers, to gouge his eyes—he was killed on September 18 (the fourteenth day before the calends of October), at the age of forty-five and after ruling for fifteen years. His body was carried out on a common bier by public bearers and buried by his nurse Phyllis at his suburban villa on the Latin Way. Later, she secretly transferred his remains to the temple of the Flavian family and mingled them with the ashes of Julia, daughter of Titus, whom she had also cared for.

XVIII. Domitian was tall, with a modest and ruddy face, large eyes, but poor eyesight. He was naturally graceful, especially in his youth—except for slightly turned-in toes—but in later years was disfigured by baldness, obesity, and very thin legs, the result of a chronic illness. Aware of how much his modest appearance benefited him, he once boasted before the senate, “So far you have commended both my disposition and my countenance.” He was so sensitive about his baldness that he took it as a personal insult if anyone was mocked for baldness, either in jest or in earnest; yet in a pamphlet on “preserving the hair,” addressed to a friend, he comforted himself and his friend with these lines:

Ouch oraas oios kago kalos te megas te;

Seest thou my graceful mien, my stately form?

“And yet the fate of my hair awaits me. Still, I bear this loss bravely while I am young. Remember, nothing is more attractive than beauty, but nothing is more short-lived.”

XIX. He so disliked exertion that he almost never walked through the city on foot. During campaigns, he rarely rode horseback, usually traveling in a litter. He had no interest in military exercises but was very skilled with the bow. Many saw him kill a hundred wild animals, of different kinds, at his Alban estate, landing arrows so skillfully in their heads that he could place two in each, like a pair of horns. Sometimes, he would have a boy stand at a distance with outstretched fingers, aiming and shooting arrows so precisely they passed between the child’s fingers without harm.

XX. At the beginning of his reign, he abandoned the study of the liberal arts, though he spent vast sums repairing libraries destroyed by fire—gathering books from every quarter and sending scribes to Alexandria to copy or correct them. Still, he never bothered with history or poetry, or employed his pen even for private business. He read only the Commentaries and Acts of Tiberius Caesar. His letters, speeches, and edicts were drafted by others, though he could converse elegantly, and sometimes spoke memorable remarks. “I wish,” he once said, “I were as handsome as Metius thinks himself.” Of one whose hair was partly red and partly gray, he observed, “It is as though snow were sprinkled with mead.”

XXI. “The lot of princes,” he remarked, “was truly miserable, for no one believed them when they uncovered a conspiracy, until after they were murdered.” When he had free time, he amused himself with dice, even on days that were not festivals, and even in the morning. He went to the baths early, and ate a plentiful dinner, so much so that he seldom ate more at supper than a Matian apple, to which he added a drink of wine from a small flask. He gave frequent and lavish entertainments, but they ended quickly, for he never prolonged them after sunset, and never indulged in revelry afterwards. Until bedtime, he would spend his time walking alone and privately.

XXII. He was insatiable in his lusts, referring to frequent relations with women as if it were a kind of exercise, “klinopalaen,” or bed-wrestling; and it was rumored that he plucked the hair from his concubines and swam with the lowest prostitutes. His brother’s daughter was offered to him in marriage while she was still a virgin; but being infatuated at that time with Domitia, he stubbornly refused her. Yet not long afterward, when she married someone else, he was eager to seduce her, even while Titus was still alive. After she had lost both her father and her husband, he loved her openly and passionately; to such a degree that he caused her death by forcing her to seek a miscarriage when she became pregnant by him.

XXIII. The people showed little concern at his death, but the soldiers were greatly angered and immediately tried to have him ranked among the gods. They were also prepared to avenge his death if anyone had led them. However, they soon did so by determinedly demanding punishment for all involved in his assassination. On the other hand, the senate was overjoyed, and met at once in a packed assembly to curse his memory in harsh terms. They ordered ladders to be brought in, so his shields and images could be taken down before them and smashed on the senate-house floor, passing a decree to erase his titles everywhere, and abolish all memory of him. A few months before he was killed, a raven on the Capitol uttered these words: “All will be well.” Someone interpreted this omen as follows:

(498) Nuper Tarpeio quae sedit culmine cornix.  
“Est bene,” non potuit dicere; dixit, “Erit.”

Late croaked a raven from Tarpeia’s height,  
“All is not yet, but shall be, right.”

They also say that Domitian dreamed a golden hump grew out of the back of his neck, which he took as a sign that happy days awaited the empire after him. Such a positive change did soon follow, through the justice and moderation of the succeeding emperors.

* * * * * *

If we observe Domitian in the various ways he was portrayed during his life and after his death, his character and actions show a greater diversity than is usually found in historical accounts. But as posthumous reputation is always the most accurate, its decisive judgment provides the fairest standard by which this complex emperor should be judged by unbiased future generations. By this rule, it is beyond doubt that his vices outweighed his virtues: and when we follow him to his private room, shortly after his accession at the age of thirty, his frivolous daily activity of killing flies reveals a level of dissipation surpassing anything recorded of his imperial predecessors. The encouragement, however, that the first Vespasian showed for literature continued during this reign; and we see the first results of its positive influence in the valuable treatise of QUINTILIAN.

Little is reliably known of the life of this famous writer. However, we know he was the son of a lawyer who served under some previous emperors, and was born in Rome—though in what consulship or under which emperor is uncertain. He married a woman from a noble family, by whom he had two sons. The mother died in her prime, and the sons passed away at different times, after their father was already advanced in age. The precise time of Quintilian’s death is as uncertain as his birth; nor can we trust an unreliable source who claims he spent his last years in poverty, alleviated by the generosity of his student, Pliny the Younger. Quintilian started a school of rhetoric in Rome, where he not only performed that demanding work with great acclaim for over twenty years, but also pleaded at the bar, becoming the first to receive a state salary as a public teacher. He was also appointed by Domitian as tutor to the two young princes destined to succeed him.

After retiring from teaching, Quintilian focused on literature and wrote a treatise on the Causes of the Corruption of Eloquence. At the urging of friends, he later undertook his *Institutiones Oratoriae*, the most thorough system of oratory to survive in any language. This work is divided into twelve books, in which he discusses in detail the qualities of a perfect orator; explaining not only the principles of eloquence as tied to the human mind, but also, through argument and observation, the most effective methods for mastering this notable art. He treats the subject so fully and systematically that he outlines the proper education for an orator from infancy in the cradle to achieving rhetorical acclaim at the bar or in any assembly. In composing this major work, Quintilian called upon not only his own sharp and broad mind, but also the deep insights of Aristotle and the elegance of Cicero; along with the accumulated experience, observation, and practice of all previous writers on oratory.

It can rightly be considered remarkable in the development of knowledge that the qualities of a perfect orator were never fully described until the times became dangerous for expressing them in the ways they were first intended. It is equally notable that, despite all the violence and unpredictability of imperial tyranny, the Romans’ enjoyment of poetry remained undiminished, as if it consoled the nation for the permanent loss of their freedom. From this source, they derived more pleasure during this reign than they had since Augustus. The chief poets of this period were Juvenal, Statius, and Martial.

JUVENAL was born at Aquinum, but the exact year is uncertain; though some indications suggest it was in the reign of Augustus. Some say he was the son of a freedman, while others mention only that he was raised by a freedman, without specifying his father’s status. He moved to Rome at an early age, where he declaimed for many years and argued cases in the forum with great success. Eventually, he took up writing satires, in which he gained great fame. One of his main and constant targets was the pantomime Paris, the favorite of Emperor Nero, and later of Domitian. During Nero’s reign, Juvenal did not suffer for his writing; but after Domitian came to power, he was not so fortunate: he was sent as governor to the frontiers of Egypt, which was really a form of honorable exile. According to some, he died of grief in that province, but this is unconfirmed and seems mistaken; for in Martial’s epigrams, apparently written after Domitian’s death, Juvenal is spoken of as living in Rome. It is said that he lived to over eighty years of age.

The works of this author that survive are sixteen satires, all written against the excess and serious vices of Rome at the time. The various subjects of his criticism are portrayed in vivid detail and placed in stark relief. Letting loose just and moral anger, Juvenal is always animated, forceful, spirited, and persistently sharp. Rejecting more gentle methods of correction, or perhaps doubting their success, he employs neither the playful teasing of Horace nor the derision of Persius, but attacks vice and folly with unrelenting force in sentiment, passion, and expression. Sometimes, his invectives include humor, but it is humor marked more by fierce rage than by wit; broad, combative, often coarse, rivalling in crudeness the corruption he targets. Juvenal’s satires are full of philosophical reflections; and, where not marred by obscene descriptions, are upheld by a constant tone of virtue. Amidst all the sharp sarcasm, his verse remains harmonious. Had he been able to use his powerful talents more for ridicule and attempting to embarrass the vices and follies of his age—rather than perhaps provoking anger more than remorse—he might have taken satire to the highest level of literary and moral achievement. Even allowing for all possible shortcomings, we do not hesitate to place him at the head of this demanding type of poetry.

Of STATIUS, few details survive except that he was born at Naples; his father was named Statius of Epirus and his mother was Agelina, and he died around the end of the first century CE. Some have speculated he supported himself by writing plays, but there is no solid evidence of this; and if he ever did write them, none have survived. The works of Statius that remain are two poems, namely the *Thebais* and the *Achilleis*, as well as a collection titled *Silvae*.

The *Thebais* consists of twelve books and tells the story of the Theban war, which happened 1,236 years before the Christian era, following a dispute between Eteocles and Polynices, the sons of Oedipus and Jocasta. These brothers had agreed to rule alternately, a year at a time; and Eteocles, being the oldest, ruled first. When Eteocles refused to step down at the year’s end, Polynices fled to Argos. There, by marrying Argia, daughter of King Adrastus, he gained his father-in-law’s help to uphold the agreement with Eteocles. The Argives marched under seven generals, each to attack one of Thebes’ seven gates. After much bloodshed without result, both sides agreed the brothers would settle the matter by single combat. In the resulting deadly fight, both were killed; and as they were burned together on the funeral pyre, it is said their ashes separated, as if still driven by the hatred they held for each other.

Except for the *Aeneid*, this is the only extant Latin epic; and it also comes nearest in merit to that renowned poem, which Statius clearly hoped to rival. In unity and grandeur of action, the *Thebais* follows the rules of epic poetry; but the plot may be seen as lacking in some ways, though this comes more from the subject matter than from any flaw in the poet. The hero does not stand out enough; nor does the poem offer the features needed to truly engage the reader’s sympathy for the outcome. Additionally, the dark nature of the incestuous family casts a kind of gloom that dims the brilliance of the poetry and limits the reader’s imagination in following some of the poet’s boldest flights. However, for grandeur and liveliness in thought and description, as well as for metrical beauty, the *Thebais* is notably excellent and should be held in much higher regard than it has generally received.

In crafting some episodes, and often in his use of language, Statius keeps a careful eye on the style of Virgil. It is said he spent twelve years creating this poem; and by his own account, he polished it with all the care and diligence of the poets of the Augustan age:

> Quippe, te fido monitore, nostra  
> Thebais, multa cruciata lima,  
> Tentat audaci fide Mantuanae  
> Gaudia famae.—Silvae, lib. iv. 7.

> For, taught by you, with steadfast care  
> I trim my “Song of Thebes,” and dare  
> With generous rivalry to share  
> The glories of the Mantuan bard.

The Achilleis focuses on the same hero celebrated by Homer in the Iliad; however, it covers the earlier life of Achilles, not his actions during the Trojan War, which is the subject of Statius’s poem. While the young Achilles is under the care of the Centaur Chiron, Thetis visits the secluded home of this teacher. To save her son from the fate predicted to overtake him at Troy, should he join the siege, she orders that he be disguised as a girl and sent to live in the household of Lycomedes, king of Scyros. However, since Troy could not be captured without Achilles’ help, the Greeks send Ulysses, accompanied by Diomede, to Scyros to bring him to the Greek camp. The clever trick by which the sharp-witted ambassador identified Achilles among his female companions was to display various goods, including armor, before them. As soon as Achilles saw the armor, he eagerly seized a sword and shield, showing the strongest signs of heroic excitement and thus revealing his identity. After a heartfelt farewell to Lycomedes’ daughter, Deidamia, whom he leaves pregnant with a son, Achilles sets sail with the Greek leaders. During the voyage, he recounts his education with Chiron.

This poem contains two books, written in heroic meter, and displays both taste and creativity. Scholars believe the Achilleis was left unfinished due to the author’s death, but this view is very unlikely, based on several factors, and seems to rest solely on the appearance of the word Hactenus at the poem’s end:

(503)  
Hactenus annorum, comites, elementa meorum  
Et memini, et meminisse juvat: scit caetera mater.

> Thus far, dear friends, with joyful memory I have recounted  
> My youthful deeds; the rest my mother knows.

That any further reference was intended by “hactenus” seems plainly refuted by the words that follow, “scit caetera mater.” Statius could not have intended to provide any further account of Achilles's life, since a general overview had already been given in the first book. The voyage from Scyros to the Trojan coast, conducted with the swiftness appropriate for the poet’s purpose, offered no events that required detailed description. Once the travelers had arrived at the Greek camp, it is reasonable to think that the action of the Iliad would immediately begin. Moreover, that Statius had no intention of extending the Achilleis beyond this point is explicitly stated in the poem’s opening lines:

> Magnanimous Aeacides, feared by the Thunderer,  
> Son denied his father’s heavenly realm,  
> Goddess, recount; though many deeds of this hero  
> Are already sung in the famous song of Maeonia,  
> Still, much remains untold. Let me attempt  
> (Such is my passion) to follow the hero wherever he goes,  
> And bring him forth from Scyros with the Dulichian trumpet;  
> Not stopping at Hector dragged,  
> But tracing the youth throughout his time in Troy.

> Aid me, O goddess! while I sing of him,  
> Who shook the Thunderer’s throne, and, for his crime,  
> Was doomed to lose his birthright in the skies;  
> The great Aeacides. Maeonian strains  
> Have made his mighty deeds their glorious theme;  
> Still much remains: be mine the pleasing task  
> To trace the future hero’s young career,  
> Not dragging Hector at his chariot wheels,

But while he still hid in Scyros in disguise, Until, roused by trumpet, he embraced his true arms, And wise Ulysses led him to the Trojan shore.

The Silvae is a collection of poems, almost all in heroic verse, divided into five books and largely written spontaneously. Statius himself states, in his Dedication to Stella, that writing any of these never took him more than two days; yet many are between one hundred and two hundred lines of hexameter. We find one of two hundred and sixteen lines, one of two hundred and thirty-four, one of two hundred and sixty-two, and one of two hundred and seventy-seven lines—an impressive speed of composition, nearly matching what Horace mentions about the poet Lucilius. It is high praise to note that, taken as impromptu pieces, (504) even the weakest in the collection hardly deserve criticism, either in sentiment or in style; and many contain passages worthy of admiration.

The poet MARTIAL, also known as Coquus, was born in Bilbilis, Spain, to parents of humble origin. At twenty-one, he moved to Rome, where he lived for thirty-five years during the reigns of the emperors Galba, Otho, Vitellius, both Vespasians, Domitian, Nerva, and at the start of Trajan’s rule. He praised several of these emperors in his works, for which he received generous rewards, was promoted to the Equestrian order, and was elevated by Domitian to the tribuneship. However, after being met with coldness and neglect by Trajan, he returned to his homeland, where he died a few years later at seventy-five.

While in Rome, Martial lived in great splendor and wealth, and was highly respected for his poetic talent. Unfortunately, upon his return to Bilbilis, he reportedly experienced a sharp decline in fortune and relied mainly on the generous support of Pliny the Younger, whom he had commended in some epigrams.

Martial’s poetry comprises fourteen books, all written in epigrammatic form, a style introduced by the Greeks for which he had a marked inclination. With such a vast number of verses on diverse subjects—many composed on the spur of the moment, and likely some during times of social excess—it is unsurprising that many fall short of the author’s talent. Martial’s work often disregards delicacy and even decency. He seized on every idea that might have a hint of cleverness, giving free rein to his energetic and imaginative mind. He is open to criticism for his composition as well; he sometimes tires or frustrates the reader with the length or ambiguity of his introductions. His opening thoughts are sometimes strained and do not flow naturally into the main point of the epigram. In giving praise or blame, he often seems guided more by bias or strategy than by fairness and truth, showing a stronger focus on wit than on moral edification.

Yet, despite these flaws, Martial’s exceptional talents cannot be denied. Generally, his composition is elegant and precise. When the subject allows for depth of feeling, his inventiveness consistently transforms it to yield pleasure and surprise. His imagination generates a wealth of beautiful images, and his judgment arranges them to the greatest effect. He delivers praise with unmatched grace and satirizes with equal skill. His command of sharp wit surpasses that of any writer; though he can be biting, he is also capable of fairness. Familiar with nearly every kind of poetic meter, Martial, despite a temperament perhaps too accommodating to the morals of his era, gives strong evidence that, at heart, his morality was sound. Pliny the Younger observed that even if Martial’s work might not last forever, he wrote as if it would. Martial’s own summary of his epigrams is honest and comprehensive:

Sunt bona, sunt quaedam mediocria, sunt mala plura,  
Quae legis: hic aliter non fit, Avite, liber.

Some are good, some are mediocre, and some are much worse;  
Such, Avitus, is always the case with a book of verse.

Quae legis: hic aliter non fit, Avite, liber.

## LIVES OF EMINENT GRAMMARIANS

### (506)

I. In ancient times, the study of grammar[^842] was not widely popular at Rome; it was of limited use in a society focused on constant warfare, where people had little time for the liberal arts[^843]. Initially, its status was quite humble; the first learned men—both poets and orators—could be considered semi-Greek. I’m referring to Livius[^844] and Ennius[^845], who are known to have taught both languages in Rome as well as abroad[^846]. However, they (507) only translated Greek works, and if they created anything original in Latin, it drew directly from what they had read. Though some say Ennius wrote two books, one on “Letters and Syllables” and another on “Metres,” Lucius Cotta convincingly proved that these were not by the poet Ennius, but by another writer of the same name, to whom the treatise “Rules of Augury” is also attributed.

II. Crates of Mallos[^847] was, in our view, the first to introduce grammar studies to Rome. He was a contemporary of Aristarchus[^848], and, having been sent as king Attalus’s envoy to the senate between the second and third Punic wars[^849], not long after Ennius’s death[^850], he suffered an accident in which he fell into an open sewer in the Palatine area and broke his leg. During his embassy and recovery, he frequently lectured and was dedicated to teaching his students, leaving an admirable example. His influence helped bring obscure poems by deceased friends or respected authors to light; these works were then read, commented on, and explained to others. For instance, Caius Octavius Lampadio edited Naevius’s Punic War[^851], which had been written as one long manuscript, dividing it into seven books. Afterward, Quintus Vargonteius took up the Annals of Ennius, reading them to packed audiences on set days. Similarly, Laelius Archelaus and Vectius Philocomus read and commented on the Satires of their friend Lucilius[^852]; Lenaeus Pompeius, a freedman, said he studied under Archelaus, and Valerius Cato under Philocomus. Two others, Lucius Aelius Lanuvinus, son-in-law of Quintus Aelius, and Servius Claudius, made significant contributions to advancing grammar, both being Roman knights and valued by both learning and the state.

III. Lucius Aelius had two surnames: Praeconius, because his father was a herald; and Stilo, for habitually composing speeches for prominent speakers. He was such a strong supporter of the nobility that he accompanied Quintus Metellus Numidicus[^853] into exile. Servius[^854], having secretly obtained his father-in-law’s book before publication, was disowned for the deception, which distressed him so much that he withdrew from Rome. Gout then struck him, and in frustration, he applied a poisonous ointment to his feet, causing his lower limbs to mortify while he was still alive. Afterwards, interest in language arts increased, and their public status grew, to the point where even men of high rank wrote on the subject; it’s said that Rome sometimes had up to twenty celebrated scholars at one time. The reputation and rewards of grammarians became so great that Lutatius Daphnides—humorously called “Pan’s herd”[^855] by Lenaeus Melissus—was purchased by Quintus Catullus for two hundred thousand sesterces, and soon after was freed. Lucius Apuleius, hired by Epicius Calvinus, a wealthy Roman knight, at a yearly salary of ten thousand crowns, taught many students. Grammar also spread to the provinces, and some of the most esteemed teachers practiced abroad, especially in Gallia Togata. Among these were Octavius (509) Teucer, Siscennius Jacchus, and Oppius Cares[^856], who continued teaching into an advanced age, even after losing the use of his legs and eyesight.

IV. The title of grammarian was borrowed from the Greeks, but the Latins initially called these individuals literati. Cornelius Nepos, in his book distinguishing between a literate and a philologist, says that, in ordinary speech, literati are those skilled in careful speaking or writing, and especially those who translated poets—whom the Greeks called grammarians. Messala Corvinus refers to them as literators in a letter, saying, “that it does not refer to Furius Bibaculus, nor to Sigida, nor to Cato the literator”[^857], clearly meaning that Valerius Cato was both a poet and an accomplished grammarian. Some differentiate between literati and literator, just as the Greeks distinguish a grammarian from a grammatist: the former implies real scholarship, the latter just basic competence. Orbilius supports this distinction with examples, noting that, historically, when slave lots were sold, no one was described as a literati unless truly learned—only as a literator, meaning someone with a modest grasp of letters.

Early grammarians also taught rhetoric, and many of their treatises covered both fields. This is likely why, even after the two professions became separate, some traditional practices remained and grammarians kept teaching basic elements helpful for public speaking—like the problem, paraphrasing, word choice, character description, and so on—so that students weren’t sent to the rhetoricians unprepared. Recently, though, I notice these lessons are sometimes skipped, more due to pupils’ lack of diligence or young age than any reluctance on the part of the master. I recall that, when I was a boy, a certain teacher named Princeps alternated teaching declamation and disputation on different days; sometimes he lectured in the morning and declaimed in the afternoon after his pulpit was moved. I also heard that in the days of our fathers, some students went straight from grammar school to the courts and quickly became leading advocates. The teachers then were certainly prominent, and I may be able to discuss some of them in later chapters.

V. SAEVIUS[^858] NICANOR first achieved fame and distinction in teaching. He also produced commentaries, most of which were said to be borrowed. He wrote a satire, in which he tells us he was a freedman and had two surnames, in these verses:

Saevius Nicanor Marci libertus negabit,  
Saevius Posthumius idem, sed Marcus, docebit.

What Saevius Nicanor, the freedman of Marcus, will deny,  
The same Saevius, also known as Posthumius Marcus, will explain.

Report has it that, due to some disgrace on his character, he retired to Sardinia, where he ended his life.

VI. AURELIUS OPILIUS[^859], the freedman of an Epicurean, first taught philosophy, then rhetoric, and finally grammar. (511) After closing his school, he followed Rutilius Rufus into exile in Asia, and the two grew old together. He wrote several volumes on various scholarly subjects—nine books named after the nine Muses, which, he said, was fitting as they are patrons of writers and poets. I see that in some indexes the title is given by a single letter, but he used two in the heading of a book called *Pinax*.

VII. MARCUS ANTONIUS GNIPHO 860 was a free-born native of Gaul, who was abandoned as an infant and later freed by his foster-father. Some claim he was educated at Alexandria, where Dionysius Scytobrachion 861 was his fellow pupil. However, I am doubtful of this, since their periods of activity do not quite align. He was said to be a man of great talent, with an extraordinary memory, widely read in both Greek and Latin, and known for his kind and agreeable nature. He never quibbled over payment, generally leaving it up to his students' generosity. He first taught in the household of Julius Caesar 862, when Caesar was still a boy, and later in his own home. He also gave instruction in rhetoric, teaching the principles of eloquence daily, though he declaimed only on festival days. Some very distinguished men attended his lectures—among them Marcus Cicero, while he was praetor 863. He wrote several works, though he did not live past fifty. Atteius, the philologist 864, claims Gnipho left only two volumes, “*De Latino Sermone;*” and that other works attributed to him were actually written by his students, although his name sometimes appears in them.

VIII. M. POMPILIUS ANDRONICUS, originally from Syria, claimed to be a grammarian, but was considered merely a lackadaisical follower of the Epicurean school and hardly qualified to lead a classroom. Finding that not only Antonius Gnipho but even less notable teachers were preferred over him in Rome, he withdrew to Cumae and lived contentedly there. Though he wrote several books, he fell into need and was so destitute that he was forced to sell his excellent little work, “*The Index to the Annals,*” for sixteen thousand sesterces. Orbilius tells us that he rescued this work from obscurity and ensured it was published under the author’s name.

IX. ORBILIUS PUPILLUS, of Beneventum, was orphaned when both his parents were killed by their enemies on the same day. He started out as an apparitor to magistrates, then served in the Macedonian military, where he first wore the plumed helmet 865 and was later promoted to cavalry. After completing his military service, he returned to his studies, which he had pursued earnestly since youth. He taught for a long time in his hometown before, during Cicero’s consulship, making his way to Rome. There, he earned more fame than fortune. In one of his works, he remarks that “he was then very old, and living in a garret.” He also published a book called *Perialogos,* which complained of the poor treatment that teachers suffered without seeking help from parents. His sour disposition was apparent not only in his arguments with rival sophists—whom he criticized constantly—but also in his conduct toward his students. Horace refers to him as “a flogger” 866, and Domitius Marsus 867 wrote about him:

Si quos Orbilius ferula scuticaque cecidit.  
If those Orbilius with rod or ferule thrashed.

(513) Not even men of status escaped his sharp wit. Before he became well known, while testifying as a witness in a crowded courtroom, Varro, the opposing lawyer, asked him what he did for a living. Orbilius replied, “I make my living by moving hunchbacks from sun into shade,” alluding to Muraena’s deformity. He lived nearly a hundred years, though he eventually lost his memory, as Bibaculus wrote:

Orbilius ubinam est, literarum oblivio?  
Where is Orbilius now, that wreck of learning lost?

His marble statue can be seen in the Capitol at Beneventum 868, seated in the pallium, holding two writing cases. He left behind a son, also named Orbilius, who became a grammar professor like his father.

X. ATTEIUS, THE PHILOLOGIST, was a freedman born at Athens. Capito Atteius 869, the noted jurist, described him as a rhetorician among grammarians and a grammarian among rhetoricians. Asinius Pollio 870, in a book criticizing Sallust for overusing archaic words, writes: “His main helper in this was a certain Atteius, a man of distinction, an exceptional Latin grammarian, the supporter and instructor of those studying declamation, in short, one who took for himself the surname Philologus.” In a letter to Lucius Hermas, Pollio says that Atteius made great progress in Greek and some in Latin; was a student of Antonius Gnipho and his Hermas 871, and later began teaching others. Among his many prominent students were the brothers Appius and Pulcher Claudius, whom he even accompanied to their province. He likely adopted the name Philologus because, like Eratosthenes 872—who was the first to use that title—he was highly regarded for his broad and deep learning, as is clear from his commentaries, though only a few survive. Another letter to Hermas shows he wrote extensively: “Remember,” it says, “to generally recommend our Extracts, which, as you know, we have collected of all kinds, into eight hundred books.” He later became close with Caius Sallustius and, after Sallust’s death, with Asinius Pollio. When they both set out to write history, he provided Sallust with short annals of Roman affairs to select from at will, and gave Pollio advice on composing prose. I am therefore surprised that Asinius Pollio believed he encouraged Sallust to use obscure words, since he surely knew Atteius’s own view: that only familiar, common, and appropriate expressions should be used, and above all, that Sallust’s style was too obscure and his translations too free.

XI. VALERIUS CATO was, according to some, the freedman of Bursenus, a Gaul. Cato himself states, in his short work called *Indignatio*, that he was born free and, after being orphaned, was easily deprived of his inheritance during the chaos of Sulla’s regime. He taught many distinguished pupils and was highly regarded as an ideal teacher for students with a talent for poetry, as these lines show:

Cato grammaticus, Latina Siren,  
Qui solus legit ac facit poetas.

Cato, the Latin Siren, grammar taught and verse,  
To form the poet skilled, and poetry rehearse.

Besides his Treatise on Grammar, he wrote a number of poems (515), with his *Lydia* and *Diana* being the most admired. Ticida refers to his “Lydia”:

Lydia, doctorum maxima cura liber.  
“Lydia,” a work to men of learning dear.

Cinna 873 thus acknowledges “Diana”:

Secula permaneat nostri Diana Catonis.  
Immortal be our Cato’s song of Dian.

He lived to a very old age, but in deep poverty, nearly destitute; he left his Tusculan villa to creditors and retired to a small cottage, as Bibaculus writes:

Si quis forte mei domum Catonis,

Depictas minio assulas, et illos  
Custodis vidit hortulos Priapi,  
Miratur, quibus ille disciplinis,  
Tantam sit sapientiam assecutus,  
Quam tres cauliculi et selibra farris;  
Racemi duo, tegula sub una,  
Ad summam prope nutriant senectam.

“If, perhaps, anyone has seen my Cato’s house, with marble slabs of the richest colors and gardens worthy of having Priapus<sup>874</sup> as their guardian, he might well wonder by what philosophy he gained so much wisdom, that a daily supply of three cabbages, half a pound of meal, and two bunches of grapes beneath a narrow roof, could be enough to sustain him well into old age.”

And in another passage he says:

Catonis modo, Galle, Tusculanum  
Tota creditor urbe venditahat.  
Mirati sumus unicum magistrum,  
Summum grammaticum, optimum poetam,  
Omnes solvere posse quaestiones,  
Unum difficile expedire nomen.  
En cor Zenodoti, en jecur Cratetis!

“We recently saw, Gallus, the Tusculan villa of Cato put up for sale by his creditors to the whole city; and we marveled that such a unique teacher, a most distinguished grammarian, and a skilled poet, could solve every problem but found one question too difficult: how to pay his debts. In him, we see the brilliance of Zenodotus<sup>875</sup> and the wisdom of Crates.”<sup>876</sup>

XII. CORNELIUS EPICADIUS, a freedman of Lucius Cornelius Sylla the dictator, served as his attendant in the Augural priesthood, and was much loved by his son Faustus; so much so that he liked to call himself the freedman of both. He completed the last book of Sylla’s Commentaries, which his patron had left unfinished.<sup>877</sup>

XIII. LABERIUS HIERA was purchased by his master from a slave dealer’s cage, and earned his freedom because of his dedication to learning. It is said that he was so selfless that he gave free instruction to the children of those who were proscribed during Sylla's time.

XIV. CURTIUS NICIA was a close friend of Gnaeus Pompeius and Gaius Memmius; but after carrying letters from Memmius to Pompey’s wife<sup>878</sup>, when she was seduced by Memmius, Pompey became furious and forbade him from his house. He was also close to Marcus Cicero, who mentions him in a letter to Dolabella<sup>879</sup> saying: “I have more need to receive letters from you than you have to desire them from me. For there is nothing happening at Rome, I think, that would interest you, except, perhaps, that you might want to know that I have been made arbitrator between our friends Nicias and Vidius. One, it seems, claims in two short verses that Nicias owes him (517) money; the other, like an Aristarchus, objects to them. I am to decide, as the old critic, whether they are really Nicias’s or forgeries.”

Again, in a letter to Atticus<sup>880</sup>, he writes: “As for your note about Nicias—nothing would please me more than to have him with me, if my circumstances allowed me to enjoy his company; but for me, my province is a place of exile and solitude. Sicca easily adjusted to this, and, so, I would rather have him here. Besides, you know well the fragility, and the refined, luxurious habits, of our friend Nicias. Why should I make him uncomfortable when he could give me no pleasure? Still, I value his good will.”

XV. LENAEUS was a freedman of Pompey the Great, and accompanied him on most of his campaigns. After the death of his patron and his sons, he supported himself by teaching in a school he opened near the temple of Tellus, in the Carium, the area of the city where the Pompeys’ house stood.<sup>881</sup> He had such regard for his patron’s memory that when Sallust described him as “brazen-faced and shameless,” he attacked the historian in a sharp satire<sup>882</sup>, calling him “a bull’s pizzle, a glutton, a braggart, and a drunkard, a man whose life and works were equally monstrous.” He also accused him of being “an unskilled plagiarist, who borrowed the style of Cato and other ancient writers.” It is said that, in his youth, aided by friends, he escaped slavery and took refuge in his own country; and after dedicating himself to the liberal arts, brought his own purchase price to his former master, who, impressed by his talent and learning, set him free at no cost.

XVI. QUINTUS CAECILIUS, an Epirote by ancestry but born at Tusculum, was a freedman of Atticus Satrius, a Roman (518) knight, to whom Cicero addressed his Epistles<sup>883</sup>. He became the tutor to his patron’s daughter<sup>884</sup>, who was engaged to Marcus Agrippa, but, being suspected of having an affair with her, was dismissed for this reason. Afterwards, he turned to Cornelius Gallus, living on very close terms with him—something that later became a serious charge against Gallus by Augustus. Then, after Gallus was condemned and died<sup>885</sup>, Caecilius opened a school, but had very few pupils, and those only young boys, and none from the higher classes—apart from children he could not refuse. He is said to have been the first to hold debates in Latin and to lecture on Virgil and other contemporary poets, as reflected in the verse of Domitius Marcus<sup>886</sup>:

Epirota tenellorum nutricula vatum.

The Epirote who,  
With gentle care, nursed our fledgling poets.

XVII. VERRIUS FLACCUS<sup>887</sup>, a freedman, distinguished himself by introducing a new teaching method; he exercised his students’ wits by encouraging competition among them, not only assigning topics but also offering prizes to those who succeeded. These prizes were some antique, beautiful, or rare book. As a result, Augustus chose him as tutor for his grandsons, and he moved his whole school to the Palatium, but with the understanding he would take on no new students. The hall in Catiline’s house (519), which had recently been added to the palace, was assigned to him for his school, along with a yearly stipend of one hundred thousand sesterces. He died of old age, during the reign of Tiberius. At Praeneste, there is a statue of him in the semicircle at the lower side of the forum, where he also installed calendars he had arranged himself and engraved on marble slabs.

XVIII. LUCIUS CRASSITIUS, originally from Tarentum and born a freedman, first bore the surname Pasides, which he later changed to Pansa. His early work was with the stage, assisting writers of farces. Subsequently, he began teaching in a gallery attached to a house, until his commentary on “The Smyrna” 888 brought him such recognition that the following verses were composed in his honor:

Uni Crassitio se credere Smyrna probavit.  
Desinite indocti, conjugio hanc petere.  
Soli Crassitio se dixit nubere velle:  
Intima cui soli nota sua exstiterint.

Crassitius alone has Smyrna’s love,  
Let the unlearned cease to seek her hand;  
She says she'll marry Crassitius alone,  
To him alone her deepest secrets are known.

After teaching many students—some from high-ranking families, including Julius Antonius, the triumvir’s son—his reputation could even be compared to that of Verrius Flaccus. Suddenly, however, he closed his school and joined the philosophical school of Quintus Septimius.

XIX. SCRIBONIUS APHRODISIUS, once a slave and disciple of Orbilius, was later ransomed and granted his freedom by Scribonia 889, the daughter of Libo and former wife of Augustus. He taught during the time of Verrius and revised Verrius's books on Orthography, often making pointed critiques of Verrius’s activities and behavior.

XX. C. JULIUS HYGINUS, a freedman of Augustus, was a native of Spain—though some say he was born in Alexandria—and, as a boy, brought to Rome by Caesar when the city was captured. He closely emulated Cornelius Alexander 890, a Greek grammarian famed for his antiquarian knowledge, known by many as Polyhistor, and by a few as History. Hyginus was appointed to oversee the Palatine library, which did not prevent him from teaching numerous students. He became close friends with the poet Ovid and with Caius Licinius, the historian of consular rank 891, who recounted that Hyginus died in absolute poverty and was supported by his generosity until his death. Julius Modestus 892, who gained his freedom from Hyginus, carried on his patron’s scholarly legacy.

XXI. CAIUS MELISSUS 893, from Spoletum, was free-born, but after being abandoned by his parents due to their disputes, he was well educated by his adoptive father, who raised him with care and dedication. He was presented to Mecaenas as a grammarian and, valued and treated as a friend, preferred to stay in his condition of servitude even when his mother sought to reclaim him, choosing the life he had rather than the status his birth might have afforded him. As a result, he was soon granted his freedom and even became a favorite of Augustus. Augustus made him curator of the library in the portico of Octavia 894; and, as Melissus himself states, he started writing his collection of “Witticisms”—now known as “The Book of Jests”—when he was in his sixties. He completed one hundred and fifty of these, later adding more. He (521) also invented a new kind of story for those wearing the toga, naming it “Trabeat.” 895

XXII. MARCUS POMPONIUS MARCELLUS, a notably strict critic of the Latin language, sometimes argued cases as an advocate. In one court speech, he repeatedly accused his opponent of making a grammatical mistake, prompting Cassius Severus to ask the judges for a postponement until his client could find another grammarian, saying he was not prepared to debate grammar rather than defend his client. On another occasion, when he criticized something in a speech by Tiberius, Atteius Capito 896 remarked, “If that is not Latin, it soon will be;” “Capito is mistaken,” replied Marcellus. “You, Caesar, can grant citizenship to whom you want, but you cannot create words for us.” Asinius Gallus 897 records his past as a boxer in this epigram:

Qui caput ad laevam deicit, glossemata nobis  
Praecipit; os nullum, vel potius pugilis.

He ducks his head to dodge a blow,  
Though he explains old sayings so,  
Boxer with battered nose and face,  
More pugilist than scholar’s grace.

XXIII. REMMIUS PALAEMON 898, from Vicentia 899 and born to a slave woman, first learned as a companion to the sons of a weaver and his master. After being freed, he taught at Rome, quickly rising to the top among grammarians; yet, his infamy for all kinds of vice led Tiberius and Claudius to officially declare him unfit for teaching the young. Despite this, his storytelling ability and engaging manner made him popular, and he was skilled at composing extemporaneous verses, including many in unusual and complex meters. His arrogance was so great that he called Marcus Varro “a pig,” boasting that “letters began and would end with him,” and that “his name appeared in the Bucolics 900 because Virgil foresaw that Palaemon would one day be judge of all poets and poetry.” He even boasted that, once caught by bandits, they spared him because of his fame.

Luxurious to excess, he bathed several times a day; his income from teaching was forty thousand sesterces a year, and he earned almost as much from his estate, which he managed shrewdly. He also ran a shop dealing in old clothes, and it is well known that a vine 901 he planted yielded three hundred and fifty bottles of wine. His worst vice was his unrestrained licentiousness with women, carried to the highest degree of indecency. 902 They tell a witty story of someone who bumped into him in a crowd—when Palaemon tried to kiss him, the man couldn’t avoid it and said, “Master, do you have to kiss everyone you meet in such a rush?”

XXIV. MARCUS VALERIUS PROBUS, from Berytus 903, long aspired to become a centurion, but grew tired of waiting and dedicated himself to study instead. In a provincial bookseller’s shop, where the memory of ancient writings lingered longer than in Rome, he found old authors and studied them carefully, then expanded his reading to similar works. His lectures drew ridicule rather than recognition or profit; nonetheless, he remained dedicated, focusing on editing, explaining, and annotating the works he collected, limiting his efforts to the field of grammar. He had very few “students” in the formal sense, more like followers. He never taught in the formal style of a master, but admitted one, two, or at most three or four students in the afternoon; while reclining and chatting on everyday matters, he would occasionally read something to them, though not often. He published a few brief treatises on subtle points and left a large collection of notes on ancient language.

## LIVES OF EMINENT RHETORICIANS.

### (524)

I. Rhetoric, like Grammar, was not introduced among us until a late period, and with even more difficulty. At times, its practice was outright prohibited. To leave no doubt about this, I will add an ancient senate decree and a censors’ edict:—“In the consulship of Caius Fannius Strabo and Marcus Palerius Messala 904, the praetor Marcus Pomponius brought before the senate a motion that an act be passed regarding Philosophers and Rhetoricians. The senate decreed as follows: ‘It shall be lawful for M. Pomponius, the praetor, to take such measures, and make such provisions, as the good of the Republic and the duty of his office require, to ensure that no Philosophers or Rhetoricians are allowed at Rome.’”

Some time later, the censors Cnaeus Domitius Aenobarbus and Lucius Licinius Crassus issued this edict on the same matter: “It has come to our attention that certain people have started a new kind of instruction; that our youth visit their schools; that they have adopted the title of Latin Rhetoricians; and that young men waste entire days there. Our ancestors decided what instruction was proper for their children and which schools they should attend. These novelties, which go against the customs and teachings of our ancestors, we do not approve, nor do they seem good to us. Therefore, we feel it is our duty to notify both those who operate such schools and those who attend them that they have our disapproval.”

Despite such resistance, rhetoric gradually showed itself to be a (525) useful and respectable discipline, and many took it up, both as a means of self-defense and for reputation. Cicero practiced declamation in Greek until his praetorship; afterwards, as he aged, in Latin as well, and even during the consulship of Hirtius and Pansa 905, whom he calls “his great and noble pupils.” Some historians say that Cneius Pompey even resumed declaiming during the civil war to better prepare to argue against Caius Curio, a talented young man who was tasked to defend Caesar. It is also said that Mark Antony and Augustus, even during the war of Modena, did not set aside the practice. Nero himself declaimed 906 even after becoming emperor, in the first year of his reign, which he had previously only done publicly twice. Many orators’ speeches were published. As a result, public interest in rhetoric grew so much that many professors and learned men devoted themselves to it, and it flourished to the extent that some of them rose to senatorial rank and the highest offices.

However, the approach to teaching was not the same for all, nor did individuals always stick to one method, but adapted their teaching as needed. They would often present arguments very clearly, using figures of speech and apologies, posing hypothetical cases as appropriate, and telling facts either briefly and concisely or in greater detail and with more emotion. They would translate from the Greek, praise or censure the virtues and faults of famous men, and discuss matters of daily life, advising what is useful or necessary and what is harmful or needless. They often supported the credibility of myths or challenged that of historical accounts. The Greeks called these exercises “Propositions,” “Refutations,” and “Corroboration.” By gradually working through these topics, they would reach the heart of the argument.

Among the ancients, topics for controversy were drawn either from history, as they still sometimes are, or from (526) recent real-life events. These topics were stated precisely, with all the details, including the names of places. We certainly find them collected and published in this way, so it might be good to give an example or two literally:

“A group of young men from the city took a summer trip to Ostia, and went down to the beach, where they met some fishermen casting their nets. They made a deal for the catch, whatever it might be, for a set price, and paid in advance. After waiting a long time for the nets to be pulled in, they found that instead of fish, there was gold sewn into a basket. The buyers claim the catch as theirs; the fishermen argue it belongs to them.”

Another example: “Some traders, landing at Brundusium with a cargo of slaves, including a particularly valuable and handsome boy, tried to avoid the customs officers by bringing him ashore dressed as a freeborn boy, with the bullum 907 around his neck. The fraud escaped notice. They proceeded to Rome; the matter was investigated in court; it was argued that the boy should be free, since his master had willingly treated him as such.”

These were formerly called by their Greek name, syntaxeis, but more recently “controversies.” They could be fictional cases or ones actually tried in court. Of all the famous teachers of this art whose records survive, there are only a few more to note, which I will now describe.

II. LUCIUS PLOTIUS GALLUS. Of him, Marcus Tullius Cicero writes to Marcus Titinnius 908: “I remember clearly that when we were boys, one Lucius Plotius was the first to teach in Latin; and as crowds flocked to his school, so all who were devoted students eagerly sought to study with him, and it troubled me greatly that I wasn’t allowed to do so. I was stopped by the firm opinion (527) of the most learned men, who felt it was best to develop one’s intellect by studying Greek.” This same Gallus, who lived to old age, was targeted by M. Caelius in a speech he made in his own defense, saying Gallus had supplied his accuser, Atracinus 909, with material for his charges. Without using his name, Caelius compared this rhetorician to barley bread 910 as compared to wheat—windy, chaffy, and coarse.

III. LUCIUS OCTACILIUS PILITUS is said to have been a slave and, according to old practice, chained to the door like a watchdog 911. Given his intelligence and dedication to learning, he was freed and drafted an accusation for his patron in a legal case. Afterwards, he became a rhetoric teacher, instructing Cneius Pompey the Great, and wrote accounts of Pompey and his father’s deeds. According to Cornelius Nepos 912, he was the first freedman to write history—before then, it was unheard of for anyone not of the highest social rank to do so.

IV. Around this period, EPIDIUS 913, disgraced for making a false accusation, opened a school in which he taught, among others, Mark Antony and Augustus. At one time, Caius Canutius mocked them for claiming to belong to the party of Consul Isauricus 914 in public matters. Epidius answered that he preferred to be the pupil of Isauricus than of Epidius the false accuser. This Epidius claimed descent from Epidius Nuncio, who, (528) according to ancient legends, fell into the Sarnus river when it was flooding, was never found, and was numbered among the gods.

V. SEXTUS CLODIUS, a native of Sicily, was a professor of both Greek and Latin eloquence. He had poor eyesight and a sharp wit. He joked that he lost his eyesight from his closeness with Mark Antony, the triumvir 916. About his wife, Fulvia, when she had a swollen cheek, he quipped that “she tempted the point of his style;” 917 Antony was not offended by this, but actually enjoyed the joke. Soon after, while Antony was consul 918, he granted Clodius a large estate, which Cicero criticized in his Philippics 919: “You patronize a schoolmaster for his buffoonery, make a rhetorician your drinking companion, and let him make jokes at everyone’s expense. A witty man, certainly; but it was easy to mock you and your circle. Senators, hear what reward this rhetorician received, and see how much harm has been done the state. You gave Sextus Clodius two thousand acres in the Leontine territory 920, and went further by excepting the estate from all taxes. Listen to this, and know, from the excess of the gift, how little wisdom your actions show.”

VI. CAIUS ALBUTIUS SILUS, of Novara 921, while serving as aedile in his hometown and presiding in court, was dragged from the bench by some men against whom he was ruling. Outraged, he left the town and went straight to Rome, where he was welcomed by Plancus the orator 922. Plancus used to have someone argue the opposite side before he gave a speech; Albutius did this so skillfully that Plancus was silenced and dared not compete with him. This success brought Albutius his own audience. He opened debates while seated but would stand up and make his closing arguments with more energy. His declamations varied: sometimes polished and brilliant, other times stripped of ornament and using only plain speech, so as not to seem too much a product of the schools. He rarely pleaded cases, and only the most important ones, where he confined himself to the peroration.

Eventually, he gave up work in the forum, partly from shame and partly from fear. On one occasion before the court of the One Hundred 923, after criticizing a man as unfilial, Albutius challenged him to “swear by the ashes of his unburied parents.” His opponent took the dare; the judges frowned, and Albutius lost his case and was much blamed. In another trial for murder in Milan before Lucius Piso, the proconsul, Albutius was so passionate in his speech that the crowded courts loudly applauded, and despite the lictor’s attempts to quiet them, he lamented Italy’s (530) miserable state and said it was at risk of being reduced again to a province. Turning to the statue of Marcus Brutus in the Forum, he called on him as “the founder and defender of the people’s freedom.” For this, he nearly faced prosecution. Suffering later from an ulcerated tumor, he returned to Novara, called together a public assembly, and gave an extended speech explaining why he chose to end his life—by starving himself.

END OF THE LIVES OF GRAMMARIANS AND RHETORICIANS.

## LIVES OF THE POETS.

### (531)

## THE LIFE OF TERENCE.

Publius Terentius Afer, born in Carthage, was a slave at Rome to the senator Terentius Lucanus, who, impressed by his talents and good looks, not only gave him a liberal education as a youth but also freed him when he reached adulthood. Some claim he was a war captive, but Fenestella 925 says that could not be, since both his birth and death occurred between the end of the Second Punic War and the start of the Third 926; nor, even if he had been captured by the Numidian or Getulian tribes, could he have ended up with a Roman general, as there was no trade between the Italians and Africans until Carthage fell 927.

Terence had close friendships with many high-ranking people, especially Scipio Africanus and Caius Delius, whose favor he was rumored to have gained by disgraceful means. But Fenestella disagrees, arguing that Terence was older than either of them. Cornelius Nepos, (532) however, tells us they were all about the same age; and Porcias hints at the rumored relationship in this passage:—

“While Terence behaves flirtatiously among the elite, striving to impress them with the flashy trappings of his appearance; while he eagerly listens to the divine voice of Africanus; while he dreams of being a regular guest at the table of Furius and the handsome Laelius; while he believes he is genuinely loved by them, and frequently invited to Albanum for his youthful beauty, he finds himself stripped of his wealth, reduced to poverty. Then, turning his back on society, he withdrew to Greece, where he died in Strymphalos, a town in Arcadia. What benefit came from the friendship of Scipio, Laelius, or Furius, three of the richest nobles of that era? They did not even support him enough to provide a rented house where his slave could go with the news of his master's death.”

He wrote comedies, the earliest of which, The Andria, was to be performed at public games given by the aediles 928. He was ordered to read it first before Caecilius 929. Having been brought in while Caecilius was at supper, dressed poorly, he is said to have started reading the play from a low stool near the host’s couch. But after reciting only a few verses, he was invited to join the table, and, after dining with Caecilius, finished reading the play to his host’s great pleasure. This play, and five others, were received by the public with similar acclaim, although Volcatius, in his list, says that “The Hecyra 930 must not be included among these.”

The Eunuch was even performed twice on the same day 931, and earned more money than any comedy, regardless of author, ever had before—eight thousand sesterces 932; in addition, a certain amount was paid to the author for the title. However, Varro favored the opening of The Adelphi 933 over that of Menander. It is widely believed that Terence was helped in his writing by Laelius and Scipio 934, with whom he shared great intimacy. Terence himself encouraged this rumor, never really defending himself against it—except in a playful way, such as in the prologue to The Adelphi:

Nam quod isti dicunt malevoli, homines nobiles  
Hunc adjutare, assidueque una scribere;  
Quod illi maledictum vehemens existimant,  
Eam laudem hic ducit maximam: cum illis placet,  
Qui vobis universis et populo placent;  
Quorum opera in bello, in otio, in negotio,  
Suo quisque tempore usus est sine superbia.

————For this,  
Which malice tells that certain noble persons  
Assist the bard, and write in concert with him,  
That which they deem a heavy slander, he  
Esteems his greatest praise: that he can please  
Those who in war, in peace, as counsellors,  
Have rendered you the dearest services,  
And ever borne their faculties so meekly.  
Colman.

He seemed to object to this claim with little seriousness, in part because Laelius and Scipio were not offended by the idea. As a result, the idea grew and persisted in later times.

Quintus Memmius, defending himself in court, said, “Publius Africanus, who borrowed from Terence a character he had once performed in private, later introduced it on stage under his own name.” Nepos reports that he found in some book that C. Laelius, when once at Puteoli, on the first of March, 935 being asked by his wife to get up early, (534) begged her not to wake him since he had gone to bed late, after an unusually productive writing session. When she asked what he was writing, he quoted lines found in the Heautontimoroumenos:

Satis pol proterve me Syri promessa—Heauton. IV. iv. 1.  
I’faith! the rogue Syrus’s impudent pretences—

Santra 936 believed that if Terence had needed any help with his works 937, he would have turned not to Scipio and Laelius—who were very young at the time—but to Sulpicius Gallus 938, a skilled scholar who first introduced Terence’s plays at the consular games, or to Q. Fabius Labeo, or Marcus Popilius 939, both consular politicians as well as poets. This explains why, when mentioning his collaborators, Terence spoke not of very young men, but of men whose service was well known to the people in war, peace, and public affairs.

Having released his comedies to the public before reaching his thirty-fifth year, whether to prevent suspicion as others were publishing works under his name, or to study Greek customs for inclusion in his plays, he left his home, never to return. Volcatius records his death as follows:

Sed ut Afer sei populo dedit comoedias,  
Iter hic in Asiam fecit. Navem cum semel  
Conscendit, visus nunquam est. Sic vita vacat.

(535) When Afer had produced six plays for the entertainment of the people,

He set sail for Asia; but after boarding the ship,  
he was never seen again. Thus his life ended.

Q. Consentius reports that he perished at sea during his return voyage from Greece, and that one hundred and eight plays—which he had adapted from Menander 940—were lost with him. Others claim he died at Stymphalos, in Arcadia, or in Leucadia, during the consulship of Cn. Cornelius Dolabella and Marcus Fulvius Nobilior 941, worn out by a serious illness and by grief over the loss of his baggage, which he had sent ahead on a ship that was wrecked, containing the latest new plays he had written.

Physically, Terence is said to have been somewhat short and slender, with a dark complexion. He had only one daughter, who later married a Roman knight; and he also left twenty acres of garden land 942 on the Appian Way, at the Villa of Mars. For this reason, I am even more surprised that Porcius could have written the following lines:

————nihil Publius  
Scipio profuit, nihil et Laelius, nihil Furius,  
Tres per idem tempus qui agitabant nobiles facillime.  
Eorum ille opera ne domum quidem habuit conductitiam  
Saltem ut esset, quo referret obitum domini servulus. 943

Afranius ranks him ahead of all other comic writers, stating in his Compitalia,

Terentio non similem dices quempiam.  
Terence’s equal cannot soon be found.

On the other hand, Volcatius rates him as inferior not only (536) to Naevius, Plautus, and Caecilius, but also to Licinius. Cicero pays him this high compliment, in his Limo—

Tu quoque, qui solus lecto sermone, Terenti,  
Conversum expressumque Latina voce Menandrum  
In medio populi sedatis vocibus offers,  
Quidquid come loquens, ac omnia dulcia dicens.

“You, too, Terence, alone in your polished language,  
have translated and expressed Menander’s work in Latin  
and presented it to the public, who, in crowded halls, listened in silent attention—  
There was grace in every line, and every passage delighted.”

So also Caius Caesar:

Tu quoque tu in summis, O dimidiate Menander,  
Poneris, et merito, puri sermonis amator,  
Lenibus atque utinam scriptis adjuncta foret vis

Comica, ut aequato virtus polleret honore  
Cum Graecis, neque in hoc despectus parte jaceres!  
Unum hoc maceror, et doleo tibi deesse, Terenti.

“You, too, who share your honors with Menander,  
will be counted among the greatest poets, and deservedly so,  
such is your love for pure language. If only your gentle writing  
were joined by more comic strength,  
that your talent might stand on equal footing with the Greeks,  
and you would not be slighted for this one deficiency!  
This alone troubles me, and I am sorry it is lacking in you, Terence.”

## THE LIFE OF JUVENAL.

D. JUNIUS JUVENALIS was either the son of a wealthy freedman, or was raised by one; it’s unclear which. He spent the early part of his life engaged in declamation more by natural inclination than by any interest in preparing himself for the schools or the courtroom. Eventually, he wrote a short satire, which was quite clever, about Paris, the pantomime actor, and also about a poet patronized by Claudius Nero who was overly proud after holding a minor military post for just six months. From then on, Juvenal committed himself seriously to writing satire. For a time, he lacked the confidence to read his works even to a small group, but it wasn’t long before he was reciting his satires to packed audiences, achieving complete success. On two or three occasions, he gave public readings, including lines he had newly added to his original compositions.

Quod non dant proceres, dabit histrio, tu Camerinos,  
Et Bareas, tu nobilium magna atria curas.  
Praefectos Pelopea facit, Philomela tribunos.

Behold, the backing of an actor offers  
A more reliable path to power than that of a noble!  
And will you still court the Camerini  
Or frequent the grand houses of the Bareae,  
When Pelopea can make one a praefect  
And Philomela a tribune—those who now govern the realm?

At that period, the actor had great influence at court, and many who flattered him were promoted daily to positions of honor. Juvenal, as a result, was suspected of covertly mocking recent events. Although he was already eighty years old, he was immediately exiled from the city—sent honorably as a praefect of a cohort bound for a post at Egypt’s farthest edge. This particular punishment was chosen as it seemed severe enough for what was considered a trivial and humorous offense. However, he died soon after, worn out by sorrow and tired of life.

## THE LIFE OF PERSIUS.

AULUS PERSIUS FLACCUS was born the day before the Nones of December, during the consulship of Fabius Persicus and L. Vitellius. He died on the eighth day before the Calends of December, in the consulship of Rubrius Marius and Asinius Gallus. Although born in Volterra, Etruria, he was a Roman knight connected by both birth and marriage to some of the highest-ranking families. He died at his estate located on the eighth milestone of the Appian Way. His father, Flaccus, died when Persius was just six, leaving him in the care of guardians. His mother, Fulvia Silenna, later married Fusius, also a Roman knight, who died after just a few years. Persius completed his early studies in Volterra until the age of twelve, after which he continued at Rome under the tutelage of Remmius Palaemon, the grammarian, and Verginius Flaccus, the rhetorician. When he turned twenty-one, he became friends with Annaeus Cornutus—a lifelong bond—and learned the basics of philosophy from him. His early circle included Caesius Bassus and Calpurnius Statura, the latter dying while Persius was still a young man. Servilius Numanus he respected almost as a father. Through Cornutus, Persius met Annaeus and also Lucan, who was his own age and another student of Cornutus. Cornutus, a tragic writer and Stoic, left works on philosophy. Lucan so admired Persius Flaccus’s writings that he could hardly suppress his admiration during readings, saying they had true poetic inspiration. Persius only met Seneca later in life, and wasn’t especially impressed by his innate qualities. At Cornutus’s house, Persius spent time with two learned men, Claudius Agaternus, a physician from Lacedaemon, and Petronius Aristocrates of Magnesia; he held them in high esteem, studied alongside them, and they were both closer to his age than Cornutus. Over nearly the last ten years of Persius’s life, he was deeply valued by Thrasea, sometimes traveling with him, and his cousin Arria married Thrasea.

Persius was known for his gentle manners, for a modesty bordering on shyness, good looks, and a notable devotion to his mother, sister, and aunt. He was frugal and chaste. He left his mother and sister twenty thousand sesterces, with a written request for his mother to present Cornutus with, according to some, one hundred sesterces or, according to others, twenty pounds of wrought silver, as well as about seven hundred books—which was his entire library. Cornutus, however, accepted only the books and gave up the rest of the inheritance to the sisters, who had been named his heirs.

He wrote infrequently, and not quickly; and even the work we have was left unfinished. Some verses are missing from the end, but Cornutus mistakenly presented it as if completed, and when Caesius Bassus asked for permission to publish, he allowed it. In his youth, Persius wrote a play, an itinerary, and verses concerning Thrasea’s father-in-law and Arria’s mother—who had killed herself before her husband. Cornutus strongly encouraged Persius’s mother to destroy these early works. When his Satires were finally published, people quickly admired and rushed to purchase them. He died from a stomach illness at age thirty. After finishing school and leaving his teachers, he enthusiastically began writing satire, influenced by reading the tenth book of Lucilius, using its beginning as his model. He then attacked others so openly that he did not even spare contemporary poets, orators, or even Nero, who was then the emperor. The line was:

Auriculas asini Mida rex habet;  
King Midas has the ears of an ass;

but Cornutus changed it to:

Auriculas asini quis non habet?  
Who does not have the ears of an ass?

so it would not appear to be a dig at Nero.

## THE LIFE OF HORACE.

HORATIUS FLACCUS was born in Venusia. According to his own account, his father was a freedman and a tax collector, though most believed he was a dealer in salted meats; for someone who once quarreled with Horace mockingly said, “How many times have I seen your father wipe his nose with his fist?” In the Battle of Philippi, he served as a military tribune, a post he owed to Marcus Brutus, the commander. After obtaining a pardon following the defeat of his party, he purchased the post of quaestor’s clerk. Later, after winning the favor first of Maecenas and then of Augustus, he acquired a significant measure of esteem from both.

And first, how much Mecaenas loved him can be seen from the epigram in which he says:

Ni te visceribus meis, Horati,  
Plus jam diligo, Titium sodalem,  
Ginno tu videas strigosiorem.  

But Augustus showed it even more strongly, as seen by a brief statement he made during his final moments: “Be as mindful of Horatius Flaccus as you are of me!” Augustus even offered to make Horace his secretary, expressing his wishes to Mecaenas in a letter that read: “Until now I have been able to write my own letters to friends, but now I am too busy and not well. So, I wish to deprive you of our Horace: let him leave your splendid table and come to the palace, where he can help me write my correspondence.” When Horace declined the offer, Augustus showed no displeasure at all, nor did he stop showering him with signs of his affection.

Some of Horace's letters still survive, from which I will quote a few short excerpts to show this: “Use your influence over me as freely as you would if we were living together as friends. In doing this you will be quite right and commit no impropriety, for I wish our relationship to be that close, if your health allowed.” And again: “How I value you, you can learn from our friend Septimius, for I happened to mention you while he was present. And if you are too proud to accept my friendship, that is still no reason for me to set little value on yours.”

In addition, among other playful remarks, Augustus often called him “his most immaculate penis,” and “his charming little man,” and from time to time showered him with gifts. He admired Horace’s works so much, and was so convinced of their lasting fame, that he instructed him to compose the Secular Poem, as well as the poem on the victory of his stepsons Tiberius and Drusus over the Vindelici; for this he urged Horace, after a long break, to add a fourth book of Odes to the previous three.

After reading his “Sermones,” in which Augustus found no mention of himself, he complained in these words: “You should know I am quite upset with you, because in most of your works of this sort you choose not to address me. Are you afraid your reputation will suffer in the future, if it is revealed that you lived in close friendship with me?” He finally got from Horace the eulogy beginning with,

Cum tot sustineas, et tanta negotia solus:  
Res Italas armis tuteris, moribus ornes,  
Legibus emendes: in publica commoda peccem,  
Si longo sermone morer tua tempora, Caesar.—Epist. ii. i. While you alone sustain the important weight  
Of Rome’s affairs, so various and so great;  
While you the public weal with arms defend,  
Adorn with morals, and with laws amend;  
Shall not the tedious letter prove a crime,  
That steals one moment of our Caesar’s time.—Francis.

In appearance, Horace was short and stout, as he describes himself in his Satires and as Augustus described him in this letter: “Dionysius has brought me your little book which, small as it is—and that’s not a criticism—I will judge kindly. However, you seem afraid that your books might be larger than you are. But if you are short in stature, you are certainly round enough. So, if you like, you may write in quart, when your book matches the girth of your belly.”