THE ORATION OF CICERO FOR M. Marcellus.

Done into English.

THIS day has put an end, O ye Senators, to the long silence I kept during our late troubles, a silence which no apprehension of danger, but partly the heaviness of my grief, and part­ly respects of modesty did oblige me to; and [Page 2] it has at once given me opportunity of ex­pressing my desires and thoughts with the same freedom I was heretofore wont to deliver them in this Audience. For so great an instance of Gentleness, such a rare and unheard of Clemency, that admirable Temper, as to all points in conjunction with supreme Power, and then so incredi­ble besides, and almost divine Wisedom, are things too extraordinary to be over­look'd, and to pass away without any noise or notice. For M. Marcellus being thus honourably returned to you, and to the Commonwealth, I make full account, that not his onely, but my voice, and authority also restored unto both; for I could not chuse but grieve, and be extremely troubled, when I saw that a person of his merit, who had embarked with me in the same interest, did not share alike with me in the same for­tune; neither could I persuade my self to appear in publick, nor did it seem reasonable or gracefull, that I alone should carry on our old employment, when he, who had set me as a pattern for imitation, he the most ingenious, and withall the most affectionate rival of my [Page 3] Studies and Practice, whom I always looked upon as a partner and companion therein, was now forcibly torn, and divorced from me. You therefore, O Coesar, by clearing the passage to his return, have opened my way too, and both invited me to resume the former course of my life, and given all here a very signal encouragement to hope and believe well of the Commonwealth in general. For my part, I did plainly perceive from your dealing with several persons, and more sensibly in my own case, but now of late all men are satisfied thereof, since you released Marcellus at our common instance, to the Senate, People, and State of Rome; especially after mention of divers things he had said and done, which did highly disoblige and offend you; upon this the whole World was convinced that you prefer the Authority of this House, and the publick Dignity, before any resentments or suspicions of your own. He indeed, as well by the unanimous accord of the whole Senate, as by your most weighty and most valuable Sentence, has to day re­ceived the highest recompence of all his life past; from which doubtless you understand [Page 4] how greatly commendable this Action is in you, when the vouchsafement does prove so glorious to him; and certainly he may now pass for a happy man, whose particular safety has conveyed to every one a content and pleasure, little inferiour to that which he himself will receive from it: A felicity this to which he had the clearest right, that deser­vedly befell him; and with good reason; for who can pretend to surpass and out-vie him, either as to the nobleness of his Blood, the probity of his Mind, or the study of excel­lent Arts, or the innocence of his Carriage, or in any kind of worth and commendation whatsoever: There is no man living hath such a fluency of Wit, no body is master of that forcible and copious Eloquence, as may enable him, O Coesar, either by his Tongue or Pen, I will not say, to adorn and set off, but so much as to enumerate and recount your marvellous atchievements; yet this I maintain, and hope I may say it without of­fence, that none of them has gotten you a greater reputation, than that which is the purchase of this day. It is a thing very of­ten in my thoughts, and which I make the [Page 5] usual matter of my discourse, that all the famous exploits of our own Generals, all the bravest actions of foreign Nations, and the most potent States, all those memorable deeds of the most renowned Monarchs, are not a­ble to bear the least comparison with yours; And that, either as to the sharpness of the Conflicts, or the number of the Battels, or the variety of Climates, or the quickness of Dispatch, or the different nature of the Wars themselves: Nor indeed could any one tra­vel through the most distant Countries with the same speed that you have run them over, I will not say by your swift Marches, but your nimble Victories. I should be little bet­ter than distracted not to own such perfor­mances as these to be so vast and vigorous, that scarce any man can reach them with the motions of his Mind, or the flights of Fancy: And yet there are other things still which in my opinion do far exceed them; for many make it their business to abate and lessen the repute which is got in War; they will detract from a Captain and divide part of his praise among common Soldiers, that Commanders alone may not appropriate the [Page 6] honour of great services; nor can it be deni­ed that the valour of Soldiers, the advantages of Place, the assistance of Allies, that Navies, Provisions, and the like, are of huge impor­tance in all military affairs; beside that For­tune does step in here also for the largest share, which she challenges as a due, and whatso­ever is attended with good success, she reckons that in a manner to be all her own: But this glory, O Coesar, you have so lately acquired, does admit none to a partnership with you, the summe total of that, (how much soever it amounts to) which certainly must be very great, the whole of it, I say, is entirely yours; no Captain or Collonel, neither Infantry or Cavalry, can bring any title to that praise, or enter into the merits it is founded on; nay, even Fortune her self, that Lady Governess of humane things, has not the confidence to offer at a claim and interest in this glory; she acknowledges the clearness of the case, and gives up all to you, without the least intrench­ment on so visible a right, and your peculiar property.

And it must of necessity be thus here, since [Page 7] there can be no mixture or fellowship, be­tween rashness and prudence, nor is chance and hap-hazard ever let into the Debates of Council.

You have subdued Nations, it is true, bar­barous as to cruelty, innumerable for multi­tude, and infinitely distant in places, aboun­ding too with stores and provisions of all sorts; but after all is said, you then over­came things that were superable by Nature, whose very state and constitution rendred them obnoxius to conquest; for there is no such Power in the world, nor any Forces so great, as that none may be able to defeat and ruine them by Arms and Puissence.

But now for any one to master his own mind, to restrain his passion, to moderate his victory, not onely to raise up a noble, a witty a valiant adversary from his low estate, but also to enlarge and heighten his former dig­nity; he that acts after this unusal and hero­ick rate, is a person I forbear to rank among the worthiest Men, but resemble him rather to God himself.

[Page 8] The Fame then of your martial Exploits shall become a theme of Panegyrick, not for us Romans alone, but they shall employ the Orators and Historians of almost all Nations, and pass down with celebration and applause to every Age of the World. And yet for all the terrible noise that such adventures make, I know not how it happens, that when peo­ple read or rehearse them to each other, they seem to be drowned, as it were, with the shout of soldiers and the sound of trumpets. But when we read or hear of a transaction that was managed with clemency, with mild­ness, with justice, with great temper and dis­cretion, especially under provocation, which can hardly brook any sober counsel, and in the midst of victory beside, that is naturally insolent and of a haughty carriage; the busi­ness then does so mightily warm and affect us, not onely in a real case, but when the story is romantick, that very oft we conceive an inclination for those whom we never saw: But as for you, O Caesar, seeing we behold your person, and enjoy your presence among us, when your mind and meaning is no less [Page 9] visible than your aspect, since you have given us so many demonstrations of your care and pleasure to preserve whatever the fortune of War has left standing in the Common-wealth, what acclamations and praises, what affecti­onate regards, and what testimonies of kind­ness do you deserve from us? It is my opi­nion, and I speak it with great seriousness, that the very walls of this venerable Court are desirous also to offer you their acknowledg­ments, foreseeing as it were that the whole Senate will in a little time, recover its ancient authority, and use it shortly here, with a free­dom due unto the place, and worthy of those Benches where they now sit. I must needs confess, when I beheld the tears which C. Mar­cellus, an excellent person, and strangely fond of his brother Marcus, shed lately before you, that a remembrance of all the Marcelli did then come into my mind, and touch me to the quick; to whom you, O Coesar, have resto­red their dignity after death by preserving Marcus, and rescu'd a noble family (reduc'd now to a small number) from decay and ru­ine. You ought therefore to value your self more, and set a higher esteem upon the sole [Page 10] honour of this concession, than of all the loud and numerous Gratulations that were ever made you; for this is the proper action and the personal merit of Coesar onely: O­ther things were atchiev'd under your con­duct and direction; great services indeed those, but in which you were attended with much company, and a mighty train of fol­lowers; whereas nothing of that appears here, you being your own Leader at once, and retinue also, a guide and companion to your self alone. The thing then I am speaking of, is herein hugely considerable, and has this eminent advantage, that, when the Trophies and Monuments erected by you shall decline, and hasten to a period, (for there is no work­manship of Art, or effect of Industry, which old age does not impair by degrees, and final­ly demolish) this justice and lenity of yours shall have a quite contrary fortune, and the more it grows in years, become still the more fresh and flourishing; so that how much so­ever any length of time may detract from the stateliness of your Fabricks, shall certain­ly be added to the heighth of your Commen­dation. As for all others that happen'd to be [Page 11] victorious in Civil Wars, you had formerly out-done them in equity and mercy, and this day was reserv'd for the nobler Conquest of your self.

I am affraid my Auditours may not so clear­ly and rightly apprehend what I am going to deliver, as I conceive it in my own thoughts; now the thing I would express is this, That you seem to have vanquish'd and worsted e­ven Victory it self, since you discharge the obnoxious, and refuse to exact those forfei­tures, which a Conquerour might fairly pre­tend to; for when we of the adverse party were but so many dead men according to the Laws of Conquest, you have preserved us all by the judgment of your clemency, So that you alone may be well termed invincible, who have brought into subjection the very state and power of Victory. Now inasmuch as Coesar has been pleas'd to pass such a sentence in our favour, let me request the Senate to consider, what is the natural consequence thereof, and how far it does extend; for as many of us as were driven to take up Arms through I know not what wretched and la­mentable fate of the Common-wealth, though [Page 12] guilty perhaps of some humane failings, are acquitted thereby from all imputation of wickedness; for when, upon your intercessi­on he condescended to spare and release Mar­cellus, he did at the same time restore me to my self, and to the Roman State, and many other honourable persons to themselves and their native soil, without the least entreaty, who now make their appearance in great numbers, and with much splendour at this Assembly. We must not imagine he has brought any into the Senate, whom he looks upon as E­nemies, but he rightly supposes, that igno­rance and misprision, a false and groundless fear, rather than passion and cruelty, did engage most of them to enter into a Civil War; during the course of which, it was e­ver my opinion, that we should all hearken to overtures of Peace; and I was always trou­bled to observe, that not onely Peace it self, but even the Discourses of those who did pro­pose and demand it, were still rejected by us; for I never did promote or approve these in­testine Discords, nor indeed any domestick Broils or Contests whatsoever: my Counsels, it is well known, did encline to quietness, and si­ded [Page 13] constantly with the Gown, but were no friends to the ratling of Arms and the rage of Battels. I went over to Pompey, 'tis true, but I was drawn into his Camp rather on a private score of my own particular engagements, than any just consideration of the publick interest; when the pure sentiments of gratitude and an honest remembrance of past kindness had such a prevalence over me, that not onely without any eagerness of desire, but so much as the least hope of advantage or success, I did, as it were, wittingly and knowingly precipitate my self into a wilfull overthrow. Which aim and intention of mine was not made a secret; for I had often and earnestly spoke here, and that be­fore ever the War broke out, touching the means of accommodation; and, after things came to extremity, I continued firm in the same mind, though with the manifest haz­zard of my life by it. So that no body sure can be so much swayed by prejudice in his estimate of matters, as once to question what was Coesar's inclination and desire in reference to the War, when he presently declared him­self in favour of such as had made it their [Page 14] business to compose things; but gave marks of his displeasure against all those who had pushed them on to a final rupture: which proceeding of his would then perhaps have been less wondred at, while the event was uncertain, and the chance of War appeared yet to be loose and dubious; but he that, having gotten the Victory, shews a real kind­ness for the known Authours of peace, does, methinks, sufficiently evidence he had rather not have fought than overcome by fighting. And I must doe Marcellus that justice to testifie thus much on his behalf, (for as our opinion did not differ in the time of Peace, so there was the same agreement between us while the War lasted,) How often, alas! and with what disorder of mind! have I seen him both detest the insolence of certain men, yea and even dread, on that side, the sierce and un­governable spirit of victory it self: so that we, O Coesar, who have had experience of a quite contrary temper, must needs be the more taken with this your generous and noble usage; for now I shall compare, not the causes themselves, but the respective victories: as for yours, we have seen it ended [Page 15] with the decision of the Battel; this City has not been terrified so much as with the sight of a naked Sword; how many soever of our friends and relations are now missing, their loss must be imputed to the stress and havock of War alone, not to any heat and outrage of victory; So that there is no que­stion to be made, but than Coesar, if possible, would raise up many a Pompeian from his grave, seing he saves every one he can of the remaining Army. As for the other Party, I shall say no more then what we were all apprehensive of, that their Conquest would in all likelihood have proved over sharp and violent; for some of them have been heard to threaten, not onely their armed adversa­ries, and the active sticklers against them, but even all the quiet and peaceable sort, because they sate still without entring into their quarrel; and it was given out as a Maxim with these, that no consideration should be had how any man stood affected, but how he did dispose of his person in that conjuncture [...] So that notwithstanding the immortal powers may have raised this despe­rate and bloudy War, as a punishment of our [Page 16] crimes, yet being either appeased now, or even glutted at length with the Roman suffe­rings, they seem to have cast the entire hope of our safety, upon the Wisedom and Cle­mency of such a Conquerour.

Rejoice therefore, O Coesar, in that excel­lent and happy disposition of yours, and, to­gether with the fortune, and the glory which wait upon you, enjoy also the benignity of your nature, and the sweetness of your de­portment, which bring in the greatest gain, and afford the most exquisite pleasure to a wise man. Upon a survey and remembrance of all your other Atchievements, though frequently your Valour may deserve the thanks, yet for the most part they will appear due to your great Felicity: But as often as you think of us, whom you were pleased to indemnify and retain with you in the Com­monwealth, so often shall you think of your own incomparable benefits; then that the Ideas and results of a Godlike bounty and sublime wisedom occur to you; which I not onely reckon to be things of a sovereign excellence, but shall venture to affirm, that [Page 17] nothing is good beside, or in comparison with them. For there is that lustre and shi­ning in deserved Praise, such a State and Ma­jesty does flow from true Greatness of Mind, and a sage Conduct, that these seem to be freely given us by Vertue, but other things to be onely borrowed of Fortune. Let me ex­hort you then never to be tir'd out in your care and protection of good men, and such especially as have been subject to slips and deviations, not through any perverse or im­petuous humour, but from an opinion of duty (which peradventure might have weak­ness in it, but certainly no malice) and by some little specious appearance of State-interest: For how could you help it, if some undiscer­ning and mistrustfull people were affraid of you; but then on the contrary it makes ve­ry much for your honour to have convinc'd them since, that their fears and jealousies were without reason.

I proceed now to that grievous Complaint and heavy Suspicion of yours; to satisfie and clear which, you cannot but be more nearly concern'd your self, than all the Citizens of [Page 18] Rome, and we above the rest (who stand in­debted to you for our Lives) are sollicitous and carefull to provide against it; and al­though I am not without hope that such a startling surmise may prove false and without foundation, yet I shall not use any artifice here to extenuate or disguise the matter, being well assur'd that the caution we take for you, is the common security of us all; so that if I must unavoidably run into extremes, and there be no way left to escape erring on one side or other, I had much rather, (considering the nicety and weightiness of this case) be thought excessively fearfull in my fears, than seem the least defective in a due fore­sight and providence. But who should this so furious Aggressour and desperate Assassin be? Is he one of your own creatures? (and yet who can possibly be more yours than such as were effectually made so, by the unexpected grant of their lives and fortunes.) Or may I sup­pose him to be one of that number which follow'd you to the Wars? But then it is highly incredible that any man should be so void of understanding, or fall into such a fit of distraction, as not to prefer the life of that [Page 19] General before his own, who had raised him to wealth and honour, and the highest digni­ties and preferments in the Roman State.

However if your friends and dependents are alike utterly incapable of such a cursed design, let us take care to prevent your Ene­mies from attempting ought of the same bar­barous and horrid nature; What enemies, I beseech you? since all of that denomination have either lost their lives through their own obstinacy, or else retain and enjoy them by your grace and favour; so that either you have no enemies at all in being, or else they that survive must needs have the greatest friendship in the world for you.

But seeing there is that close shelter and safe refuge for villany in the minds of men, and they have so many ways to conceal or disguise their intentions, let us raise and heighten your supicion at the present, for by that means we shall at once quicken your diligence and encrease our own. For is there any man living so ignorant of things? so much a stranger to our affairs? or that takes [Page 20] so little thought, either about his own, or the publick safety? as not to perceive and know that his own personal security is in­volv'd in yours, and that the lives of us all do depend on your single preservation? When the motions of a sensible concern (which presents you continually to my mind, and that with good reason,) do work within me. I am apt onely to apprehend the usual ac­cidents of humanity, or the uncertain issues of health, or the common frailties of nature; and it very much afflicts me to consider, that the Republick, which was made for im­mortality, and should last always, has no other present subsistence, but what is drawn from the breath, and lodg'd in the welfare of one mortal. But now if, beside humane casualties, and the ticklish condition of health, we are also liable to the assaults of wicked and treacherous Conspiratours, what Guar­dian-Angel, do we think, let him desire it ne­ver so much, shall be able to defend and se­cure the Roman Government? You, O Coesar, and you onely, are to raise and erect all you find ruinous, and which must of necessity have been shattered and broken by the shock [Page 21] and violence of the War it self; you must establish Judgment, and restore Faith, and restrain licentiousness, and propagate a new Off-spring; whatsoever is fallen in pieces, or has slipped out of its due place, must be made up, and knit firmly together by severe Laws. Amidst our late eager Animosities and warm Conflicts, and in that vehement Clashing as well of Inclinations as of Arms, there was no help for it, whoever should get the better, but that the poor shaken Republick must infallibly lose, both several ornaments of its honour, and many supports of its strength and firmness; and that the Leader of each party should doe many things him­self in his Coat of Mail, which he would not have suffered when he wore a Gown. Now all these gashes and contusions do expect to be closed and cured by your hand, to which no body else can apply any healing remedy. Give me leave therefore to declare how un­easie I was to hear you come out with that, however worthy and wise, saying of yours, wherein we are told, that you had even liv'd long enough already, either with respect to the measures of Nature, or the stretch of [Page 22] Glory: Now suppose the extent of your life to have been such, if you will needs have it so, as may suffice Nature, I shall add like­wise, since it is your pleasure to say it, as may have reached the attainment, and satis­fied the ends of a glorious reputation; but then (that which is the most considerable point here) it appears little to us who do yet need your assistence, and falls very short still in regard of that charitable relief, and those important services your native Countrey demands from you: Wherefore I must en­treat you to lay aside all that Philosophick learning and unseasonable sageness in despising death; do not resolve to show your self brave and prudent, at our cost, and with the publick hazzard: For I am frequently informed that you too often discourse after the old strain, and to this effect, that you have lived sufficiently in reference to your self, and your own concerns: I do verily believe you speak just as you think, but I should then bear it with greater patience, did you live merely for your own sake, or if you were brought into the World for your self onely; but when the welfare and hap­piness [Page 23] of each individual Roman, and that of the whole Community is included and wrapt up, as it were, within the circle and compass of your Actions, you seem to be so far from the due perfection, and signal accomplish­ment of your mighty works, that you have not yet laid the very foundations you design. Will you then limit and measure out your life, not by the rule and standard of our common good, and a general interest, but by some plausible notions of equity, and the rare moderation of your private sentiments? Now what if all hitherto does not prove suffi­cient, even for your own glory? which all the wisedom you have cannot possibly ex­tinguish the thirst of, or even force you to disown the passionate desire you have for it. But imagine, say you, I were to dye imme­diately, would any man think I should leave then but a slight and slender reputation be­hind me? For others, I grant, there would be a fair inheritance of glory, though many were to share and divide the purchase; but all that treasure of fame would be poor and incompetent for you alone: for let it be ne­ver so vast and extensive, the thing will then [Page 24] seem to be little and scanty, when a larger object appears, and there is somewhat still more ample behind it. But if this, O Coesar, must be the end and upshot of all you have Atchieved, and we are to see no farther ad­vantage of your immortal deeds, but that, after the defeat of your enemies, the unhappy Republick shall be left still in that torn and tottering condition, wherein we now find it, take care, I beseech you, lest that undaunted Courage and divine Vertue of yours may attract perhaps more admiration than glory: For true glory does import an illustrious and diffusive Fame arising from great and numerous obligations, conferred either upon Fellow-Citizens, or the whole Countrey where we live, or the Universal Body of Mankind.

This therefore is the last honour reserved for you, this is the remaining part you are now to act; herein you must bestir your self, and proceed vigorously to order and compose things, to fix and rivet the Com­mon-wealth; and when it is settled in the first place, you may then take and enjoy your [Page 25] own ease, and repose your self in the sweetest pleasures of a deep tranquillity: after you have quitted all scores with your Countrey, and glutted Nature as it were with a long and various entertainment of Life; then, I say, you shall have our free consent to declare, if you be so minded, that you have enough of this World, and are even surfeited with living.

But to talk of any long while in describing our continuance here, is a fond and idle im­propriety; for what is this very length we speak of, which has a close and period? and, when that is come, all the foregoing plea­sure ought to pass for nothing, because there will be none left to succeed it. Albeit that active and spacious Soul of yours could ne­ver acquiesce or contain it self within the narrow bounds which Nature has prescribed us, but was always inflamed by the love, and big with the conceit of Immortality: Nor indeed can this deserve to be reckon'd for your life, which depends upon the body, and is kept up by a little transient breath; that, I say, is your proper subsistence, that onely, O Coesar, is a life worthy of you, which shall [Page 26] flourish in the memory of all ages, which they that come after us will successively cherish and maintain, which Eternity it self will have an endless regard to, and shall support for ever.

This is it you must consecrate your labours and travels to, and to this you must evi­dence what a gallant person you are, how much you are able and willing to doe for its sake and service. We discern many things already in the glorious courses you pursue, which excite our wonder, but we now look for such as may deserve our commendation. It will be matter of astonishment to all future ge­nerations, when they shall reade and hear of the charges you have born, the Provinces you have subdu'd, and what has been done by you in Germany, in the Ocean, and in Egypt; the perusal and report, I say, of your Battels with­out number, of your Victories above belief, of all your Trophies and Triumphs, shall que­stionless amaze and confound posterity: but unless this imperial City shall, by your au­thority and contrivance, be immovably pitcht upon a solid bottom', your great and formi­dable Name then will onely shift and wander [Page 27] about the World, but have no certain abode, nor any settled habitation. And as we our selves have been of different minds, so will there be a great dissention among those that shall be born hereafter; when some shall cry up and extoll your Atchievements to the ve­ry Skies, while others may perhaps fansy them to be very lame and imperfect, as wanting their chief complement and lustre, if you do not effectually provide, that the late bluste­ring storms may expire at length into a calm of peace, and the settlement of your Coun­trey: so that the former may be thought a kind of fatal necessity, but the latter seem to proceed from design and counsel. Recom­mend therefore and approve your self to those Judges, that shall pronounce of your Actions a thousand years hence, and, for ought I can tell, may give a more imparti­al sentence than we doe at present; for their judgment will be equally void both of favour and prejudice, neither shall envy or hatred have any force to byass and corrupt them: And although this remote censure of theirs should not any way touch or affect you then (as some falsly imagine) however it concerns [Page 28] you now at least, so wisely and worthily to demean your self, and appear one of such a character and credit, that no revolution of time, no forgetfulness of men, no ignorance of any age may ever obliterate or eclipse your Praises.

From the very beginning of those unhap­py Disputes, we Romans had our sentiments apart, and our wits divided; and the little janglings of thought and affection hurried us at length into several Camps, and armed de­fiances of each other: Nor is it much to be wondred we should draw different ways, un­der such puzzling and perplexed circumstan­ces, while things were so much in the dark, and when a controversie arose between two of the most famous Captains in the World.

Many did then deliberate what was abso­lutely the best, and not a few consider, what was best for themselves; some were demur­ring on the point of Decency, and others ta­ken up with the Case of Conscience.

[Page 29] The Republick, in fine, after much strug­gling, has got her self clear of this so mise­rable and fatal War, and he prevail'd at last, who would not raise and ruffle his displea­sure by success, but rather qualifie and sof­ten it by goodness; nor could he value pro­vocations at such a dreadfull rate, as to mark out all that should offend him either for death or banishment.

The matter is now brought unto this issue, that some have laid down their Arms of their own accord, and others have been for­ced to surrender them. Whosoever then, being freely discharged from the guilt and peril of former opposition, does still retain hostility in his heart, is highly chargeable with ingratitude and injustice; and I look upon him to be much a better man, who appear'd in the field, and was slain fighting against you, than any one that shall now keep up the quarrel, and spend his last breath in the prosecution of it: for that which is thought mere obstinacy and a stubborn stif­ness by some, may pass for brave resolution, and a noble constancy with others.

[Page 30] But seeing we have been well beaten into some kind of agreement, and all our heats and heart-burnings are now totally extin­guished by those temperate and cooling ap­plications of the Victour's kindness, it re­mains that every one of us, who has either a grain of discretion, or even of common sense, should unanimously agree as to your particular. For unless you, O Coesar, do con­tinue safe, and in the same mind (which as well heretofore, as to day especially you have given proofs of) we are all utterly undone, and must inevitably perish: All of us there­fore, who desire the preservation of this Em­pire, do at once earnestly exhort, and most humbly beseech you to have a care of your Life, and to consult your Safety: And foras­much as you conceive there is some treache­ry on foot, and a secret mischief designed you, which requires caution, we all here with one consent (for I presume that of others which I mean my self) do not onely promise to have a watchfull eye, and keep a close guard about your person, but we offer you our own attendance beside, as ready to interpose [Page 31] betwixt you and danger, and even to hazard our lives for your defence and security.

And now to close up all with gratulation, as I took my rise from it, we do all, O Coe­sar, return you our greatest thanks and ac­knowledgments, with a reservation of greater still than we are able to express; for all here have the same sentiments, as you might easily perceive by the joint supplications and tears of all: but because it is no way requi­site that every one present should make you his single complement, they were extreme de­sirous that I at least would undertake it in the name of all; who do now ly under some kind of necessity to perform it, because it is both their pleasure I should, and because, upon your restoring Marcellus to the Senate, and the People, and the whole State of Rome, I find my self particularly concern'd to dis­charge that duty: for I observe this vouch­safement of yours has given such a publick satisfaction, as if men did not rejoice now at the private deliverance of one person alone, but were transported with joy for their own common safety. If therefore, while there was [Page 32] the least question of his safety, I acted the part of a true friend toward Marcellus (as my af­fection for him was very well known, where­in I scarce yielded to his dear Caius, the best natur'd brother in the World, but to no man living besides him) if, I say, that singular kindness of mine did appear then, by the so­licitude, and care, and industry I shewed on his behalf, much more, undoubtedly, at this time, being newly freed from the weight of those troubles and perplexities, ought I to at­test and evidence the good-will I bear him.

Wherefore I leave you, O Caesar, to imagine the deep and lively resentments I feel within me, desiring you would so interpret my thanks, as I understand the favour, which I do to such a degree of obligation, that although you have with all tenderness and respect, not onely preserved my life, but taken care of my honour, yet by this action of yours (a thing which after that I thought wholly impossible) there is an infinite addition made to the many signal engagements you had heap'd upon me.