Marcus Brutus

Plutarch · a new plain-English translation from the original language

Marcus Brutus's ancestor was Junius Brutus, whom the Romans of old set up in bronze on the Capitol, in the midst of the kings, sword drawn, as the man who had most surely put an end to the Tarquins. But that Brutus, like blades tempered cold, having a nature hard and not softened by reason, was carried by his passion against tyrants as far as the killing of his own sons; whereas this one, on behalf of

whom this is written, having tempered his character with education and reason through philosophy, and having roused a nature grave and gentle by nature to active impulses, seems to have been blended most harmoniously toward the good, so that even those who hated him for the conspiracy against Caesar, if the deed brought forth anything noble, attached it to Brutus, while they turned the harsher parts of what had happened onto Cassius,

who was indeed a kinsman and friend of Brutus, but simple in character, not so pure in the same way. Servilia his mother traced her lineage back to Ahala Servilius, who, when Spurius Maelius was contriving a tyranny and stirring up the people, took a dagger under his arm and went forth into the marketplace, and standing close by the man as though about to meet him and converse, when he nodded assent, struck and killed him. This

much then is agreed. But as for the paternal line, those who, on account of the murder of Caesar, display some hostility and ill will toward Brutus say that he does not descend from the man who expelled the Tarquins; for no line was left to that man, since he had put his own sons to death, but that this Brutus was a commoner, son of a steward, who had only just recently advanced to a magistracy. Posidonius the philosopher says that the

grown sons of Brutus perished, as is recorded, but that a third, still a babe, survived, and from him the family's line continued, and that some of the notable men of the house in his own time traced the resemblance of their features to the statue of Brutus. So much then on these matters. The brother of Servilia, Brutus's mother, was Cato the philosopher, whom this man

of the Romans most emulated, Cato being his uncle and later becoming his father-in-law. Of the Greek philosophers there was none, so to speak, of whom he was ignorant or a stranger, but he was especially devoted to the followers of Plato, and not much inclined toward the so-called New and Middle Academy, he clung closely to the Old, and he continued to admire Antiochus of Ascalon, while he made a friend and companion of his brother

Aristus, a man who fell short of many philosophers in facility of speech, but was a rival of the foremost in orderliness and gentleness. And Empylus, whom he himself in his letters and his friends often mention as living with him, was an orator, and has left behind a small but not worthless treatise on the killing of Caesar, entitled Brutus. In Latin, then,

Brutus was well enough trained for the give-and-take of debates and contests, but in Greek he cultivated the terse, laconic manner of speech, and in his letters he is in places notable for it, as for instance, once already engaged in the war, he writes to the Pergamenes: "I hear that you have given money to Dolabella. If you gave it willingly, you confess you have done wrong; if unwillingly, prove it by giving to me willingly." Again to the Samians:

"Your deliberations are careless, your services slow. What end do you suppose these will come to?" And another: "The Xanthians, disregarding my kindness, have made their homeland a tomb of their own madness, while the Patareans, having entrusted themselves to me, lack nothing in managing their own affairs of freedom in every particular. It is open to you, then, to select either the Patareans' verdict or the Xanthians' doom." Such is a sample of his

distinctive letters. While still a youth he traveled abroad together with his uncle Cato, who had been sent to Cyprus to deal with Ptolemy. When Ptolemy had destroyed himself, Cato, himself held back at Rhodes by pressing business, had beforehand dispatched a friend of his, Canidius, to watch over the money; but suspecting the man might not keep his hands off it, he sent word to Brutus asking him to sail as quickly as possible to

Cyprus from Pamphylia, for there he was passing time recovering from some illness. Brutus, though very unwilling, sailed, both out of respect for Canidius, as a man dishonorably cast aside by Cato, and because he considered such oversight and management altogether, being as he was young and devoted to study, unbefitting a free man and beneath himself. Nevertheless he applied himself diligently to this business too, and by Cato

he was praised, and when the estate had been turned into money, he took the greater part of the funds and sailed to Rome. But when affairs were split apart by Pompey and Caesar taking up arms, and the leadership of the state was thrown into confusion, it was expected that he would choose Caesar's side, since his own father had earlier been put to death on account of Pompey; but holding that the public good should be set before private matters, and judging Pompey's

cause the better one for the war, he attached himself to that side. And yet before this, whenever he had met Pompey he had not even addressed him, considering it a grave defilement to converse with the man who had killed his father; yet now, submitting himself to him as ruler of the fatherland, he sailed to Cilicia as a legate together with Sestius, who had been allotted that province. But since there was nothing of importance to do there, and Pompey and

Caesar were already coming together to contend for the whole, he came to Macedonia as a volunteer to share the danger; at which time they say that Pompey, delighted and full of wonder at his approach, rose up from where he sat and embraced him as though he were the superior, in the sight of all. And during the campaign, whatever time of the day he did not spend with Pompey he passed in reading and books, not only at other times, but even before the great

battle. It was the height of summer, and there was great heat, since they were encamped near marshy ground, and those bringing Brutus's tent were slow in arriving; worn out from this, he barely anointed himself at midday and ate a little, and while the others were either sleeping or occupied with anxious thought about what was to come, he himself, until evening, wrote, composing an epitome of Polybius. And it is said too that

Caesar did not neglect the man, but even told his commanders beforehand, in the battle, not to kill Brutus, but to spare him, and if he offered himself voluntarily, to bring him along, but if he resisted capture, to let him be and not use force; and that he did this as a favor to Servilia, Brutus's mother. For he had, it seems, been aware, when he was still a young man, that Servilia was passionately in love with him,

and it was at just the time when this love was blazing most fiercely that Brutus had been born, and he was somehow persuaded that Brutus had come from himself. And it is said that when the great affair of Catiline had fallen upon the senate, which came close to overturning the city, Cato and Caesar stood together disputing over the verdict, and at that moment a small note was handed in from outside to Caesar, which he read in silence, while Cato

cried out that Caesar was doing something terrible in receiving overtures and letters from the enemy. Since many were in an uproar, and Caesar handed over the little tablet just as it was to Cato, who read it and found it to be a shameless letter from his own sister Servilia, he threw it at Caesar and said, "Keep it, drunkard," and then turned back again to his opinion and speech from the beginning. Such then

was the notorious love of Servilia for Caesar. And when the defeat at Pharsalus occurred, and Pompey had escaped to the sea, and the camp was being besieged, Brutus slipped out unnoticed through gates leading to marshland thick with water and reeds, and traveled through the night safely to Larissa. From there he wrote to Caesar, who was pleased that he was safe, and bidding him

come to him, not only released him from the charge, but held him among those most honored around his person. And when no one could say where Pompey had fled, but there was great perplexity, Caesar, walking along a road with Brutus alone, sounded out his opinion. And since Brutus seemed, from certain reasonings, to conjecture best about Pompey's flight, Caesar, abandoning the other routes, pressed on toward Egypt. But Pompey,

just as Brutus had guessed, met his fate when he landed in Egypt. And Brutus reconciled Caesar even to Cassius. And indeed when he pleaded for the king of the Libyans, though he fell short of the magnitude of the charges against him, by his entreaty and intercession on his behalf he preserved for him a large part of his kingdom. It is also reported that Caesar, upon first hearing him speak, remarked to his friends: "This

young man, I do not know what he wants, but whatever he wants, he wants it very strongly." For his gravity, and his not being easily or completely obedient to everyone who asked a favor, but acting on reasoned judgment and choice of what was honorable, wherever he turned, employed strong and effective impulses. And toward unjust requests he was not to be flattered into compliance, and the defeat

that comes from yielding to shameless entreaties, which some call being overawed, he held to be most shameful for a great man, and he used to say that those who are unable to refuse anything seem to him not to have arranged the prime of their life well. When Caesar was about to cross into Africa against Cato and Scipio, he entrusted to Brutus Gaul this side of the Alps, to the good fortune of that province; for while the others, entrusted to men who plundered them like captives through insolence and greed, to those people

even relief and consolation from their former misfortunes was Brutus. And he attached the gratitude for all this to Caesar, so that on his return, as he went about Italy, the most pleasant sight for him was the cities under Brutus's charge, and Brutus himself, increasing that honor and keeping company with him in a gracious manner. But when, of the several praetorships, the one holding the greatest dignity, called the urban praetorship, it was expected

that either Brutus or Cassius would obtain it, some say that they, already somewhat at odds from earlier causes, quarreled all the more fiercely over this, even though they were kinsmen; for Cassius was married to Junia, sister of Brutus. Others say that this rivalry was Caesar's doing, since he secretly gave each of them hopes, until, being thus led on and provoked, they were brought to open contest. Brutus contended on the strength of his reputation

and virtue against Cassius's many and brilliant youthful exploits in the Parthian campaigns. And Caesar, hearing this and deliberating among his friends, said: "Cassius has the juster claim, but Brutus must be given the first place." So Cassius was appointed to the other praetorship, holding not so much goodwill for what he received as anger for what he had missed. Brutus otherwise shared in Caesar's power as much as

he wished. For it was in his power, had he wished, to be first among his friends and to have the greatest influence; but the companionship with Cassius drew him away and turned him back, since he himself had not yet been reconciled with Cassius after that rivalry, and he listened to friends who urged him not to allow himself to be softened and charmed by Caesar, but to flee the tyrant's favors and kindnesses, by which Caesar dealt with him not so as to honor his virtue, but

so as to cut out his strength and undermine his spirit. Nor indeed was Caesar altogether free of suspicion or unaffected by slander against him, but while he feared the man's proud spirit and dignity and friends, he trusted his character. And first, when word came that Antony and Dolabella were scheming to overthrow the state, he remarked that his worry lay not with those stout, long-haired fellows, but

those lean, sallow-faced men—by which he meant Brutus and Cassius. Then, when some were slandering Brutus and urging him to be on guard, he touched his own body with his hand and said, "What then? Do you not think Brutus will wait for this bit of flesh?"—as though it were fitting that no one else but Brutus should have such power after him, and indeed he seems to have thought that Brutus would surely become first in the city, could he but endure for a little while

playing second to Caesar and let his power fade and let his glory over his successes wither away. But Cassius, a man of passionate spirit and one who was more a private hater of Caesar than a hater of tyranny in common, inflamed and hastened him on. It is said that Brutus was weighed down by his rule, while Cassius hated the ruler personally, making various other charges against him, including the seizure of lions, which Cassius

had prepared while intending to serve as aedile, but which Caesar seized when they were found at Megara, when that city was captured through the treachery of Calenus. These beasts are said to have brought a great disaster upon the Megarians. For when the city was already being taken, they broke open the cages and released the fetters, thinking the beasts would be an obstacle to the attackers, but instead the beasts rushed upon the very people themselves and, as they ran about unarmed, seized them, so that

to make the enemy's sight pitiable. As for Cassius, however, they say this was above all the cause of his conspiracy: not rightly speaking. For from the beginning there was in Cassius's nature a certain hostility and harshness toward the family of tyrants, as he showed even while still a boy, going to the same school as Faustus, the son of Sulla. For the one, among

the boys, boasting grandly, was praising his father's monarchy; but Cassius rose up and rubbed his fists into him. And when the guardians of Faustus and his household wanted to prosecute and bring suit, Pompey prevented it, and bringing the two boys together in the same place he questioned them about the affair, whereupon it is said Cassius said, "Come now, Faustus, dare to say in front of this man the very speech

over which I was provoked, so that I may again smash your mouth." Such, then, was Cassius. But Brutus was drawn out and urged on toward the deed by many speeches from his intimates and by many rumors and writings from the citizens. For on the statue of his ancestor Brutus, who had put down the rule of the kings, they wrote, "Would that you were now alive, Brutus," and

"Would that Brutus were living." And Brutus's own tribunal, while he was praetor, was found by day filled with writings of this kind: "Brutus, are you asleep?" and "You are not truly Brutus." Responsible for these were Caesar's flatterers, who, discovering other invidious honors for him, also placed diadems on his statues by night, as though they meant to bring the multitude around to calling him king instead of dictator. The opposite came about, as has been written accurately in the chapters

on Caesar. When Cassius was testing his friends against Caesar, all agreed, if Brutus would lead: for the deed needed neither manpower nor courage so much as it needed a man of such standing, as if his mere presence alone would inaugurate and confirming the justice of the act; but if not, then even those doing it would be more disheartened, and having done it, more suspected — as if the deed were not his own, even if

it had a noble cause, since he had refused it. Having thought this through, Cassius went to Brutus first, after that estrangement between them, and after their reconciliation and friendly words he asked whether on the Kalends of March Brutus had decided to be present at the senate: for he had heard, so he claimed, that a motion touching on kingship was to be put forward at that time by Caesar's partisans. When Brutus said he would not attend, "What then," said Cassius, "if they summon us?"

"It will then be my task," said Brutus, "not to be silent, but to defend the fatherland and to die before its freedom does." And Cassius, roused, said, "But what Roman will endure you dying first? Have you no idea what you are, Brutus? Or do you suppose it is mere weavers and shopkeepers scribbling on your tribunal, and not the first and most powerful men, demanding from the other

praetors distributions and shows and gladiators, but from you, as an ancestral debt, the overthrow of the tyranny — men ready to suffer everything for your sake, such as they expect and demand should you show yourself?" Saying this, he threw his arms around Brutus and gave him a kiss, and with their reconciliation complete they turned to consult their friends. There was a certain Gaius Ligarius among Pompey's friends, whom, though he had been accused on this account,

Caesar had pardoned. This man, not grateful for the trial from which he had been released, but resenting the very power that had put him in danger, was hostile to Caesar, while among Brutus's circle he was one of the closest intimates. Brutus, coming in to see him while he was ill, said, "O Ligarius, what a time to be sick." And Ligarius at once, rising up on his elbow and taking his right hand, said, "But Brutus, if you

have in mind anything worthy of yourself, I am well." After this, testing quietly those acquaintances whom they trusted, they shared their plan and enlisted them, choosing not merely their close friends but also anyone else they recognized as courageous, upright, and unafraid of dying. For this reason they concealed the matter from Cicero, even though he was first among them in both trust and goodwill, for fear that, being by nature lacking in boldness and having by now acquired, through age, an old man's

caution, by tracing everything, point by point, in his calculations to the utmost safety, he might blunt the edge of their eagerness, which required speed. Indeed, among his other companions Brutus also passed over Statilius the Epicurean and Favonius, the lover of Cato, because when he had tested them from a distance in some such way, circling around them in conversation and philosophical discussion, Favonius answered that civil war was a worse thing than an unlawful

monarchy, while Statilius said that it was not fitting for a wise and sensible man to be endangered and thrown into confusion on account of base and senseless men. But Labeo, who was present, spoke against both of them. And Brutus at that time, since the argument seemed to have something difficult and hard to judge, kept silent, but later shared the plan with Labeo. And when he accepted eagerly, they thought to bring in the other Brutus, surnamed Albinus, who otherwise

was not a man of action nor bold, but was strengthened by the great number of gladiators he kept for the entertainment of the Romans, and was trusted by Caesar, so it seemed good to win him over. When Cassius and Labeo spoke with him, he answered nothing; but when Brutus himself met with him privately and he learned that Brutus was the leader of the undertaking, he agreed to cooperate eagerly. And most of the others, the best men too, were drawn in by the reputation of

Brutus. And though they neither swore an oath together nor took nor gave any pledge over sacred rites, they all held so firmly together within themselves, kept silence, and carried it through together, that although the deed was foreshown by the gods through prophecies and apparitions and sacrifices, it did not become disbelieved. But Brutus, since he had attached to himself the foremost spirits, families, and virtues of Rome, and was turning over in his mind

the whole danger, tried outwardly to restrain himself and to keep his mind composed, but at home and by night he was not the same man; rather, sometimes his anxious thought carried him off against his will out of sleep, and other times, giving himself over more to reasoning and spending time amid his perplexities, he did not escape the notice of his wife, who slept beside him, that he was full of an unusual disturbance and was turning over in his mind some

hard and troublesome plan of his own. Now Porcia was, as has been said, the daughter of Cato, and Brutus, who was her cousin, had married her not while a maiden, but rather once her former husband had died, taking her when she was still young and already had a young son by that earlier marriage, whose name was Bibulus; and a small book of memoirs of Brutus, written by that son, is still preserved. Porcia, being devoted

to her husband and full of good sense, did not attempt to ask her husband about his secrets before she had first made trial of herself in this way. Taking a small blade, the kind barbers use to trim nails, and having sent all her attendants out of the chamber, she cut a deep gash into her own thigh, causing heavy bleeding, and shortly afterward severe pain

and shivering fever seized her from the wound. When Brutus, in great anguish and distress, was there in the height of her suffering, these were the words she addressed to him: "Brutus, Cato fathered me, and I came into this household not as some concubine, only to share your bed and board, but as a partner in whatever fortune, good or ill, falls to you. Now as for your part, everything concerning

our marriage is blameless; but what proof or favor is there from my side, if I am to share neither a hidden suffering with you nor a concern that requires trust? I know that a woman's nature is thought too weak to bear a secret word, but, Brutus, there is a certain strength that comes from good upbringing and virtuous company into one's character: as for me, I have both the fact of being Cato's daughter and of being Brutus's wife,

which I had trusted in less before, but now I have come to know myself to be unconquerable even by pain." Having said this, she showed him the wound and told him of the trial. He, astonished, and raising his hands, prayed that the gods would grant him, in bringing his undertaking to success, to appear a husband worthy of Porcia. And then he tried to restore his wife. When the senate had been proclaimed, a meeting to which

Caesar was expected to come, they decided to make their attempt: for then they could gather as a group without raising alarm, and the leading men of highest standing would all be present together, so that once the great deed was done they could at once lay hold of freedom. It seemed too that the place itself was somehow divine and favorable to them: for there was one of the porticoes near the theater, having a recess in which stood a

statue of Pompey, put up by the city at the time it embellished that spot with the theater and its colonnades. It was here, then, that the senate was called together, at approximately the mid-point of March (a date the Romans term the Ides), and it appeared that some divine power was leading the man on to answer for the wrong done to Pompey. When the day came, Brutus, girding on a dagger, with only his wife aware of it,

went forth, while the others, gathered around Cassius, brought his son down to the forum, as he was assuming the so-called toga of manhood. From there they all went into Pompey's portico and spent time there, since Caesar was expected to arrive at the senate shortly. There indeed one might especially have marveled, knowing what was to come, at the men's composure and steadiness in the face of terrors — that many of them, being compelled by their office as praetors to transact business,

not only listened calmly to those who came before them with disputes and lawsuits, as though they had leisure, but also rendered to each their judgments precisely and with due consideration, attending carefully. And when someone who did not wish to submit to trial appealed to Caesar and there was much shouting and calling of witnesses, Brutus, looking around at those present, said, "Caesar neither hinders me from doing what is according to

the laws, nor will he hinder me." And yet many disturbing things happened to them by chance: first and most of all, that Caesar was delaying, the day advancing, because the sacrifices were unfavorable, and he was being held back at home by his wife, and prevented from going forth by the seers. Second, someone approached Casca, one of the conspirators, and taking his right hand said, "You kept it hidden

from the rest of us, Casca — but Brutus already told me the whole thing." When Casca was startled, the man laughed and said, "How is it, blessed fellow, that you have grown rich so quickly, that you strip for a run at the aedileship?" So close did Casca come, thrown into confusion by the ambiguity, to blurting out the secret. And Popillius Laenas, a man of senatorial rank, greeting Brutus and Cassius themselves more warmly than usual, and whispering softly, said, "I pray with you that you accomplish

what you have in mind, and my advice is to waste no time, since the affair is no longer being kept secret." With these words he went off, leaving behind him strong grounds to suspect that he had gotten wind of the plot. Meanwhile a messenger ran from the house to Brutus to report that his wife lay dying. Porcia, worn down by dread of what was coming and unable to endure the burden pressing on her mind, could scarcely

keep herself at home, but at every noise and shout, like women possessed by Bacchic frenzies, she darted out, questioning everyone who arrived from the forum about what Brutus was up to, and repeatedly dispatching still more messengers. At last, as the time grew long, the strength of her body could no longer hold out, but she gave way and wasted away, her spirit distracted with anxiety, and before she could

reach her chamber, faintness and helpless bewilderment overtook her as she happened to be sitting in the middle of the room; her color changed and her voice failed her utterly. Her maidservants cried out at the sight, and when the neighbors ran together to the door, a report quickly spread and word went round that she had died — yet in fact she soon revived

in a short time and, coming to herself, was tended by the women. Brutus, when the report reached him, was disturbed, as was natural, but he did not abandon the public business nor let himself be swept toward his private affairs by his suffering. By now Caesar was announced to be approaching, being carried in a litter. For, discouraged by the sacrifices, he had decided to confirm none of the more important business that day, but

to put it off, pretending illness. As he was stepping out of the litter, Popillius Laenas approached him — the very man who a little before had prayed that Brutus and his friends succeed and accomplish their aim — and conversed with him at some length, Caesar stopping and giving him his attention. The conspirators (for so let it be said) not hearing his words, but conjecturing from what they suspected that this conversation was a disclosure of the plot, exchanged glances and

in their minds, and looked at one another, exchanging assent through their faces that they must not wait to be arrested, but must at once kill themselves with their own hands. And when Cassius and some others had already laid their hands on the hilts under their cloaks and were drawing their daggers, Brutus, seeing in Laenas's posture that he was pleading urgently and not making an accusation, said nothing, because many

outsiders were mixed in among them, but with a cheerful face he encouraged Cassius and his companions. And shortly after, Laenas, having kissed Caesar's right hand, withdrew, making it clear that his approach had concerned himself and some matter of his own. When the senate had already gone ahead into the exedra, the rest surrounded Caesar's chair as though about to bring some matter before him. And

Cassius, it is said, turned his face toward the statue of Pompey and called on it, as though sensing what was about to happen, while Trebonius drew Antony aside by the doors and, engaging him in conversation, held him back there. Caesar came in and took his seat, whereupon the senate rose to honor him, but as soon as he was seated they crowded around him in a body, putting forward Tillius Cimber from among themselves to plead on behalf of his exiled brother. And all of them joined in the plea, taking hold of his hands and kissing his chest

and his head. At first he brushed off their entreaties; then, when they would not let go, he rose to his feet by force. At that Tillius, with both hands, pulled the cloak down from his shoulders, and Casca—who stood behind him—was the first to draw his sword and strike, not deeply, near the shoulder. Caesar took hold of the hilt and cried out loudly in Latin, 'Casca, you villain, what

are you doing?' Casca, calling out to his brother in Greek, told him to help. Already being struck by many hands, and casting his eyes about on every side in an effort to break free, he caught sight of Brutus drawing his sword against him, and at once let go of Casca's hand, and covering his head with his toga, gave his body over to the blows. The others, crowding recklessly around his body and wielding their swords all together, wounded one another

so that even Brutus took a wound to the hand as he shared in the killing, and all of them were drenched in blood. When Caesar had died in this way, Brutus came forward into the middle, wishing to speak and to reassure the senate; but the senators fled in disorder out of fear, and there was a crush and confusion at the doors, though no one was pursuing or pressing them. For it had been firmly resolved

to kill no one else, but to call everyone to liberty. Now to all the rest, when they had been deliberating the deed, it had seemed good also to cut down Antony along with Caesar, as a man given to monarchy and to violence, who had built up strength through his association and familiarity with the soldiers, and especially because to his naturally overbearing and ambitious nature he had then added the dignity of the consulship, ruling jointly with Caesar at the time. But Brutus stood against

this plan—first, holding firm to justice, and second, holding out the hope of a change of course. For he did not despair that Antony, a man of good natural gifts, ambitious and a lover of glory, once Caesar was out of the way, would join with the fatherland in its liberty, drawn on by rivalry toward what is noble by them. In this way Brutus preserved Antony; but in the fear of that moment Antony changed into common clothing and fled.

Brutus and his men made their way to the Capitol, their hands stained with blood, and displaying their bared swords called on the citizens to liberty. At first there were shouts, and the running to and fro that by chance attended the event added still more to the confusion; but when no further killing or plundering of the dead occurred, the senators, growing bolder, went up,

and many of the common people too, to join the men on the Capitol. When the crowd had gathered, Brutus made a speech that was persuasive to the people and fitting to what had been done. As they applauded and shouted for him to come down, they went down boldly into the forum, the rest following one another, while Brutus was escorted in the middle by many prominent men and brought down from the height very splendidly, and was stationed on

the rostra. At the sight of him, the crowd, though of mixed composition and prepared to riot, grew fearful and received what followed with order and silence. When he came forward, all gave silence to his speech; but that not everyone approved of the deed became evident when Cinna started speaking and inveighing against Caesar—the crowd erupted in anger and railed bitterly at Cinna, so that

the men went back once more to the Capitol. There, fearing a siege, Brutus sent away the best of those who had gone up with him, not thinking it right that men who had no share in the responsibility should also undergo the danger with them. Nevertheless, on the following day, when the senate met in the temple of Earth, and Antony, Plancus, and Cicero spoke concerning amnesty and concord, it was resolved not only

that there be immunity for the men, but also that the consuls should bring forward a motion concerning honors for them; and having voted this, they dissolved the meeting. Antony sent his own son up to the Capitol as a pledge, and upon that Brutus and his companions came down, and there were greetings and handshakes as everyone mingled together. Antony took Cassius in and entertained him at dinner, Lepidus took Brutus, and the rest were entertained by whoever had, toward each of them, either familiarity

or affection. At daybreak the senators assembled again, and first gave honors to Antony for having put a stop to the outbreak of civil war; then there was praise for Brutus and his companions who were present; and finally, a distribution of provinces. Crete went to Brutus by their vote, Libya to Cassius, and Asia was assigned to Trebonius, Bithynia to Cimber, while the other Brutus received the part of Gaul around the Eridanus. After

this, when talk arose concerning Caesar's will and his funeral, and Antony's party demanded that the will be read out and that the body be carried out for burial neither hidden away nor dishonored, so that this too might not provoke the people, Cassius argued strongly against it, but Brutus yielded and agreed to it—which he later came to regard as his second mistake, for by sparing Antony he was thought to have

fortified against the conspiracy a heavy and hard-to-fight enemy, and by letting the funeral take place in the manner Antony demanded, he had ruined everything. For first, since in the will seventy-five drachmas had been given to every Roman, and to the people the gardens across the river had been left, where the temple of Fortune now stands, a remarkable goodwill and longing

for him seized the citizens. Then, when the body had been carried to the forum, Antony delivered a eulogy, as is the custom, and seeing the crowds stirred by his speech, he turned to lament, and taking up Caesar's bloodstained robe, unfolded it, displaying the gashes and the multitude of wounds. From that point nothing more was done in order: some cried out

for the killers to be put to death, while others—just as earlier in the case of Clodius the demagogue—tore benches and tables from the workshops, gathered them together, and heaped up an enormous pyre, and placing the body in its midst, set it ablaze in a place surrounded by many temples and many sacred and inviolable precincts. As the fire blazed up, people rushed in from every side, snatching half-burnt brands

and ran toward the houses of those who had killed him, intending to set them on fire. But those men, having fortified themselves well beforehand, beat back the danger. There was a certain Cinna, a man given to poetry, who had no part in the plot, but had in fact been a friend of Caesar's. This man dreamed that he was invited by Caesar to dinner and refused, but Caesar pressed him and used force, and at last, taking hold of his hand, led him into a vast

and dark place, while he himself, unwilling and bewildered, followed. Having seen this vision, it happened that he ran a fever through the night; nevertheless, at dawn, when the body was being carried out, feeling ashamed not to be present, he went out into the crowd, which had already grown savage. He was noticed there, and mistaken not for the Cinna he truly was but for another man who not long before had spoken abusively against Caesar in front of the assembly, and so was torn limb from limb. This calamity

most of all, coming after Antony's change of course, frightened Brutus and his companions, so that they left the city; in the beginning they took up residence at Antium, intending that once the anger had subsided and died down they would go back down to Rome again. This they expected would readily come about, given the unsteady and swift shifts of feeling among crowds, and given that they held the goodwill of the senate, which, letting those who had torn Cinna apart go unpunished, had

sought out and arrested those who had attacked the houses of those men. And now, since the people too were growing displeased, as Antony was setting himself up close to a monarchy, they longed for Brutus and expected that he himself would be present to put on the games which he, as praetor, owed them. But when he perceived that many of those who had served under Caesar, and had received land and cities from him, were plotting against him and creeping into the

city in small numbers, he did not dare to come; but the people watched the games in his absence, games provided with great and extravagant lavishness. For he had bought up a great many wild beasts and ordered that none be sold off or held back, but that all of them be used up; he himself meanwhile traveled down to Naples, where he met with most of the performers devoted to Dionysus. And concerning a certain Canutius, who was enjoying success on the stage, he wrote to his

friends asking them to persuade him to appear—for it was not fitting that any Greek be compelled. He also wrote to Cicero, asking him urgently to be present at the games. While affairs stood in such a condition, another change occurred, with the arrival of the young Caesar. This man was the son of Caesar's niece, and by the terms of the will had been left, in writing, as his son and heir. He was staying in Apollonia when Caesar was killed, occupied

with his studies and waiting for Caesar, who had already resolved to march against the Parthians at once. As soon as he learned of the calamity he came to Rome; and taking Caesar's name as the foundation of a bid for popular favor, and distributing among the citizens the money that had been left, he began to undermine Antony's standing and, by handing out money, won over and gathered together many of those who had served under Caesar. When Cicero, out of his hatred for Antony, began to act in Caesar's

interest, Brutus rebuked him sharply for this, writing that Cicero did not resent having a master, but feared one who hated him, and was pursuing a policy that chose a benevolent form of slavery, by writing and saying that Caesar was a good man. 'Our ancestors,' he says, 'did not put up with even mild masters.' As for himself, he said, at this point in time he had resolved neither to wage war outright nor to remain quiet, but had determined one thing only:

not to be a slave. He said he was amazed at Cicero, if he feared a civil and dangerous war but did not fear a shameful and inglorious peace, and demanded as his price for driving Antony out of his tyranny that Caesar be set up as tyrant. Such, then, was Brutus in his earliest letters; but now, with some siding with Caesar and others with Antony, and the armies being bought

as though under an auctioneer's call, going over to whoever offered more, he, utterly despairing of the state of affairs, resolved to leave Italy, and traveled on foot through Lucania to Elea on the sea. From there, as Porcia was about to turn back again to Rome, she tried to conceal how deeply she suffered, but a certain painting betrayed her, noble as she otherwise was. For there was, among the Greek paintings, a scene depicting Hector being sent off by Andromache, who was receiving

the child from him, while gazing at him. As Porcia looked upon this, the image of that suffering dissolved her into tears; and coming to it often during the day, she would weep. When a certain Acilius, one of Brutus's friends, recited the lines Andromache addresses to Hector— 'Hector, you are to me father and honored mother, and brother too, and you are my vigorous husband'— Brutus, smiling,

said, 'But it is not for me to say to Porcia the words of Hector, "tend to the loom and the distaff, and give orders to the maidservants"; for in body she falls short of the same feats of manly courage as others, but in spirit, on behalf of her country, she is as valiant as we are.' This is what Bibulus, Porcia's son, has recorded. Brutus, putting out to sea from there, sailed on toward Athens. When the people received

him warmly with acclamations and decrees, he lodged with a certain foreign host, and by attending the lectures of Theomnestus, head of the Academy, and Cratippus of the Peripatetic school, and taking part in their philosophical discussions, he seemed to be entirely at leisure and idle. But he was conducting his preparations for war without arousing suspicion. For he sent Herostratus into Macedonia to win over the officers of the armies stationed there, and he took in and kept together the young men who were idling away their time in the city of Rome.

Among them was Cicero's son, whom he praised especially, saying that whether he was awake or dreaming, he marveled at so noble a young man and so great a hater of tyrants. When Brutus began to take up affairs openly, and learned that Roman ships full of money were coming from Asia, with a general sailing on them, a charming and well-known man, he went to meet him near Carystus. Meeting him, persuading him, and taking over the ships, he gave a more splendid

reception. For it was the day on which Brutus had first been born. So when they came to drinking, they made libations to Brutus's victory and to the freedom of the Romans. Wanting to encourage them still further, he asked for a larger cup, and taking it, without any occasion, suddenly cried out this verse: "But deadly fate and the son of Leto slew me." And besides these things

they also report that when he went out to fight the last battle at Philippi, the watchword he gave to the soldiers was "Apollo." For this reason they count that exclamation as a sign of the disaster to come. Following that omen, Antistius handed over to him five hundred thousand drachmas from the funds he was carrying to Italy, and all the remnants of Pompey's army still roaming through Thessaly gladly joined his ranks

and he took away five hundred cavalry from Cinna, who was leading them to Dolabella in Asia. Sailing to Demetrias, where many weapons were being carried out to Antony — which had been made for the Parthian war by order of the elder Caesar — he seized them. When Hortensius the praetor handed Macedonia over to him, and the kings and rulers round about were joining and attaching themselves to him, word came that Gaius, Antony's brother, had crossed over from Italy

and was marching straight for the forces which Vatinius held together at Epidamnus and Apollonia. Brutus, wishing to forestall and get there first, suddenly roused those with him and marched through difficult country in a snowstorm; and he got well ahead of those bringing up the provisions. So when he came near Epidamnus, from exhaustion and cold he was struck with hunger-faintness. This condition falls especially upon men and animals laboring in snow,

whether because the body's heat, driven inward and compressed by the surrounding cold, consumes all the nourishment at once when it is all shut in together, or because a sharp, thin breath given off as the snow dissolves cuts into the body and destroys the heat by scattering it outward from within. For sweating seems to occur when the heat, meeting the cold at the surface, is quenched there. On these matters elsewhere

the difficulty is discussed more fully. When Brutus fainted, and no one in the camp had anything to eat, those with him were forced to flee to the enemy, and coming up to the gates, they asked the guards for bread. The guards, hearing of Brutus's condition, came out themselves bringing food and drink, and so, once Brutus had captured the city in exchange for that kindness, he treated not only these men,

but all the people generously for their sake. Gaius Antonius, attacking Apollonia, called to himself the soldiers who were nearby. But when these went over to Brutus instead, and he perceived that the people of Apollonia favored Brutus's cause, he abandoned the city and marched to Buthrotum. And first he lost three cohorts, cut down along the road by Brutus; then, attempting to force his way through the positions

already occupied around Byllis, and joining battle with Cicero, he was defeated. For Brutus employed this man as general and accomplished much through him. Having caught Gaius, scattered far apart in marshy ground, Brutus did not allow an attack, but rode around them, ordering his men to spare them, since before long they would belong to him. And that is exactly what happened: they gave themselves up along with their commander, with the result that Brutus already had a great

force around him. For a long time he kept Gaius in honor and did not strip him of the insignia of his office, although, as they say, many others, and Cicero especially, wrote from Rome urging him to kill him. But when Gaius secretly began to talk with the commanders and stirred up an attempt at revolution, Brutus put him on a ship and kept him under guard. When the corrupted soldiers revolted to Apollonia and called

Brutus there, he said this was not the ancestral custom of the Romans, but that they should go to their commander themselves and beg pardon for their offenses. And when they came and asked, he granted them forgiveness. As he was about to cross over into Asia, news came of the change in Rome: for the young Caesar had been raised up by the senate against Antony, and having driven

him out of Italy, he himself was now formidable, seeking the consulship contrary to law, and maintaining great armies though the city had no need of them. Seeing that the senate too was troubled by this and was looking to Brutus abroad, voting him honors and confirming his provinces, he grew afraid. So he sent to Antony offering friendship, and surrounding the city with his forces

he took the consulship, not yet quite a boy, but in his twentieth year, as he himself says in his memoirs. At once he brought charges of murder against Brutus's associates, as men who had killed, without trial, a man who had held the highest offices, and he set as accuser against Brutus Lucius Cornificius, and against Cassius Marcus Agrippa. So they were convicted in their absence, the jurors being forced to cast their votes,

and reportedly, once the herald, following custom, summoned Brutus from the platform to stand trial, the crowd let out an audible groan, while the most noble men lowered their heads to the ground and stayed silent, and Publius Silicius was observed weeping, a display that shortly afterward earned him a place among those condemned to death. Following that episode, the triumvirate of Caesar, Antony, and Lepidus, having reached a reconciliation,

divided the provinces among themselves and carried out the slaughter and proscription of two hundred men, among whom Cicero also died. When word of this reached Macedonia, Brutus, driven to it, wrote to Hortensius to kill Gaius Antonius, as if avenging both Brutus and Cicero — the one truly a friend, the other also a kinsman by blood. For this reason Antony later, having captured Hortensius at Philippi, slaughtered him at his brother's tomb.

Brutus, for his part, says he was ashamed of the cause of Cicero's death rather than grieved at the calamity itself, and that he blamed his friends in Rome: for they were enslaved by their own fault more than by that of the men who ruled them, and endured, seeing and being present, things which it would have been unbearable even to hear about. Having brought his army across into Asia, now grown splendid, he was fitting out a naval fleet

in Bithynia and around Cyzicus, while he himself advanced by land, establishing order in the cities and dealing with the local rulers, and he sent to Cassius in Syria, calling him back from Egypt: for they were not, he said, acquiring power for themselves, but freeing their country, and the force with which they meant to overthrow the tyrants was straying about being gathered together; they ought therefore to remember and keep to their purpose, and not remain far off from Italy, but

hasten there and help their fellow citizens. Cassius obeyed and, as he came down, Brutus went to meet him, and they encountered one another near Smyrna, for the first time since they had parted at Piraeus, one setting out for Syria, the other for Macedonia. There was great joy and confidence for each of them from the forces now at hand. For setting out from Italy like the most disgraced of exiles,

without money and without arms, having not one warship, not one soldier, not one city, after no very long time they had come together into the same place, matched in ships and infantry and cavalry and money, fit to contend for the leadership of the Romans. Cassius, then, wished to have equal honor and to grant it, but Brutus generally anticipated this by going to visit him himself,

since Cassius was older and could not endure exertion of body in the same way. There was a general opinion that Cassius was formidable in matters of war, but harsh in temper and ruled more by fear, while toward his intimates he was more relaxed, fond of a joke and given to mockery; but Brutus, they say, was loved by the many for his virtue, adored by his friends, admired by the

best men, and hated not even by his enemies, because the man was exceptionally gentle and great-minded, and untouched by anger, pleasure, or greed, and he kept his judgment upright and unbending, standing firm on behalf of what was noble and just; and what mattered most for the goodwill and reputation he enjoyed was the trust people had in his integrity of purpose. For not even that great Pompey, if

he had brought down Caesar, was confidently expected to hand over power to the laws, but rather always to keep hold of affairs, placating the people by calling it a consulship, a dictatorship, or whatever milder title for authority he chose; but this Cassius, a vehement and passionate man, often carried away toward gain rather than justice, people thought was fighting and wandering and taking risks, more than anyone else, in order to build up some dominion for himself, not

freedom for the citizens. For those still earlier than these men — the Cinnas, the Marii, the Carbos — set their country in the middle as a prize and as plunder, and fought all but openly for tyranny. But Brutus, they say, not even his enemies charged with such a reproach; indeed many even heard Antony saying that he believed Brutus alone had attacked Caesar led on by the splendor and apparent nobility

of the deed, while the rest banded together against the man out of hatred and envy. Hence Brutus is shown by what he writes to have trusted not so much in his power as in his virtue. He writes to Atticus, when already drawing near to the danger, that his affairs stand at the fairest point of fortune: for either, victorious, he will free the Roman people, or, dying, he will be delivered from slavery.

and while all their other circumstances stood secure and firm, one thing alone was uncertain: whether they would live in freedom or die. He says Marcus Antony is paying a fitting penalty for his folly, he who, though able to be numbered among the Brutuses and Cassiuses and Catos, has made himself an addition to Octavius: and even if he is not defeated now along with him, a little later he will fight against him. This indeed seems to have been a good prophecy about

the future. At Smyrna at that time he asked to share in the money which Cassius had gathered in great quantity, for he himself, he said, had spent all he had building so great a fleet, by which they would hold the whole sea within their power under themselves. Cassius's friends tried to stop him from giving it, saying it was not right that what you have saved by frugality and gathered at the cost of ill will he should take and use to court popularity and

gratify the soldiers. Nevertheless he gave him a third part of everything. And parting again, each to the tasks proper to him, Cassius, having taken Rhodes, did not treat affairs there with moderation, and indeed, when those entering addressed him as king and lord, he answered: "Neither king nor lord, but the killer and punisher of the king and lord." Brutus, meanwhile, from the Lycians

demanded money and troops. But when Naucrates the demagogue persuaded the cities to revolt, and they seized certain hills meaning to block Brutus's passage, first, while they were taking their meal, he sent cavalry against them, by whom six hundred were destroyed; then, taking their outposts and small towns, he released all of them without ransom, hoping to win over the nation by goodwill. But they were stubborn, resenting the harm done to them

in anger, and despising his fairness and humanity, until, having driven their most warlike men together into Xanthus, he laid siege to it. Since the river ran alongside the city, they attempted to get away by diving underwater and swimming through it. But they were caught by nets let down through the channel to the depths, whose ends, fitted with bells, at once signaled anyone caught in them. When the Xanthians made a night sortie with certain devices and threw in fire, so that the Romans were shut off

when the Romans became aware of it near the wall, and a strong wind fanned the flame onto the battlements, catching hold of the nearby houses, Brutus, fearing for the city, ordered his men to put it out and help. But the Lycians were seized by a sudden terrible impulse toward desperation, beyond words, which one might best compare to a passion for death, they who, together with their children and wives,

free and slave and every age, shot at the enemy who were helping against the flame from the walls, while they themselves, bringing reeds and wood and every kind of kindling, carried the fire on toward the city, offering it all manner of fuel and in every way stirring and feeding it. And when the flame, having spread and girded the city all around, blazed out mightily,

Brutus, in agony over what was happening, rode along outside the walls, eager to help, and stretched out his hands to the Xanthians, begging them to spare themselves and save the city; but no one paid him any attention, and instead they were destroying themselves by every means—not only the men and women, but even the small children, who with shouting and wailing leapt some into the fire, others from above

hurled themselves headlong from the walls, and others bared their throats and offered them to their fathers' swords, urging them to strike. And when the city had been destroyed, a woman was seen hanging from a noose, with her dead child fastened to her neck, and setting fire to her house with a burning torch. When this spectacle appeared, tragic as it was, Brutus could not bear to look at it, but wept on hearing of it, and

he proclaimed a reward for any soldier who could save a Lycian man alive. They say that only a hundred and fifty were found who did not escape being saved. So the Xanthians, after a long span of years, as if paying back a fated cycle of destruction, renewed by their recklessness the fortune of their ancestors—for they too, in the same way, in the time of the Persians, had burned their city and destroyed themselves. Brutus, seeing the city of the

Patarans standing firm against him, hesitated to attack and was in great doubt, fearing the same desperate madness; but having their women as captives, he released them without ransom. And they, being wives and daughters of prominent men, described Brutus to the others as a most temperate and just man, and persuaded them to yield and hand over the city. As a result of this, all the rest also came over, entrusting themselves

to him, and found him generous and, beyond their hopes, fair-minded—he who, while Cassius at the same time forced the Rhodians to bring in privately all the gold and silver they possessed (from which about eight thousand talents were gathered), and fined the city publicly another five hundred, from the Lycians he himself took just a hundred fifty talents as their sole levy, doing them no further harm, then set off for Ionia. Many indeed

were the deeds worthy of memory that he displayed, both in honors and in punishments of those who deserved them; but I will relate the one thing that most delighted him and the leading Romans. When Pompey the Great made for Egypt near Pelusium, at the time when, having lost his great power, he was fleeing from Caesar, the guardians of the king, who was still a boy, were in council with his friends, not agreeing

in their opinions. Some thought they should receive him, others that they should drive the man away from Egypt. But one Theodotus, a native of Chios hired as a paid rhetoric instructor in the king's service, who happened to sit in on the council that day since no abler men were on hand, announced that neither party had it right—not the men pressing for Pompey's reception, nor those pressing for his rejection. For there was, he said, one course of advantage in the present circumstances: to receive him and then kill him. And

he added, as he finished speaking, that a dead man does not bite. When the council adopted this opinion, Pompey the Great lay there, an example of things unbelievable and unexpected—the work of Theodotus's rhetorical skill and cleverness, as the sophist himself used to boast. A little later, when Caesar arrived, those who had done the deed perished miserably, paying the penalty, while Theodotus, borrowing time from fortune, into an obscure and

destitute and wandering life, did not then escape the notice of Brutus, who was passing through Asia; but he was arrested and punished, and gained more fame from his death than from his life. Brutus summoned Cassius to Sardis, and went out to meet him as he approached with his friends; and the whole army, under arms, hailed them both as imperator. But as happens in great affairs, when many friends and commanders are involved, accusations

and slanders had arisen between the two of them, and before doing anything else, as soon as they arrived they went by themselves into a room, and with the doors shut and no one present, they first traded reproaches, then charges and accusations. From this they moved to tears and outspoken words carried along by passion, and their friends, amazed at the harshness of their anger and its intensity, feared that something might come

of it—but they had been forbidden to approach. Marcus Favonius, who had been a devoted admirer of Cato, practicing philosophy not so much by reason as by a certain impulse and mad passion, walked in toward them, though the servants tried to stop him. But it was no easy task to restrain Favonius when he had rushed at something, for he was violent in everything and quick to act, since he considered himself, though a senator of Rome, worth nothing at all; and with the

Cynic's frankness he often took away the harshness of his outspokenness, and men received his untimeliness as a joke. So then, forcing his way past those present, he pushed open the doors and went in, reciting in an affected voice the verses which Homer has Nestor use: 'But obey; both of you are younger men than I,' and so on. At this Cassius laughed, but Brutus threw

him out, calling him a shameless dog and a false dog. Still, at that moment they made this the end of their quarrel with each other, and immediately parted. And when Cassius was giving a dinner, Brutus invited his friends, and when they were already reclining, Favonius arrived, freshly bathed. Brutus protested that he had not been invited, and ordered him taken to the topmost couch, but Favonius forced his way past and reclined in the middle one; and the

drinking party had its share of wit that was neither graceless nor unphilosophical. The next day Brutus condemned and disgraced a Roman who had held the praetorship and had been trusted by him—Lucius Pella—when the Sardians accused him publicly of theft; and this matter distressed Cassius more than moderately. For he himself, only a few days before, having privately reproved two friends convicted of the same offenses, had openly let them go and continued to make use of them, and for this reason he blamed

Brutus as being too rigidly legalistic and just, at a time when the political situation demanded flexibility and generosity. Brutus answered by telling him to keep in mind that day in March, the Ides, when together they had struck Caesar down—not because Brutus himself had been steering and plundering the entire world, but because he had been the power behind others who were doing these things; so that, if there is any fine pretext by which justice is neglected, it would have been better to put up with Caesar's

friends than to overlook their own men doing wrong. 'For those men will be charged with cowardice, but we bear the reputation of injustice along with dangers and hardships.' Such, then, was the principle by which Brutus lived. Just before the army was due to make the crossing out of Asia, a great portent is said to have come to Brutus. By nature the man was wakeful, and through discipline and

self-control he had reduced his sleep to a small portion of time, never sleeping during the day at all, and at night only so much as, with everyone else at rest, allowed him neither to act nor to converse with anyone; but at that time, with the war under way, holding in his hands the affairs of the whole cause, and his mind stretched taut toward the future, whenever he first began to nod off in the evening over his food, he would then spend the rest of the night on the pressing matters

of business, and if he managed to finish and settle what needed attention, he would take up a book and read until the third watch, the hour when it was customary for the centurions and tribunes to present themselves before him. So then, as he was about to bring the army across from Asia, it was the dead of night, and the tent had only a dim light, and the whole camp was held in silence. And he, reasoning something out

and considering it within himself, thought he perceived someone entering, and looking toward the entrance he saw a dreadful and strange apparition of a monstrous and terrifying body, standing silently beside him. Daring to ask it, 'Who are you,' he said, 'of men or of gods, or what do you wish, that you have come to me?' The phantom answered him in a low voice: 'I am your evil spirit, Brutus. You will see me

at Philippi.' And Brutus, not disturbed, said, 'I shall see you.' When it had vanished, he called his attendants; and when they said they had heard no voice and seen no vision, he then kept watch the rest of the night; but once dawn came he sought out Cassius and gave him an account of what he had seen. Cassius, who followed the teachings of Epicurus and was accustomed to argue with Brutus about such matters, said, 'This is our

doctrine, Brutus: that we do not perceive or see all things truly, but perception is a fluid and deceptive thing, and the mind is still quicker to set itself in motion and change from nothing that actually exists into every kind of image. For the impression is like wax, and the soul of a human being, having in itself both what is molded and what molds, can most easily diversify and shape itself

through its own agency, as the transformations of dreams in sleep make clear—dreams into which the imaginative faculty turns, starting from a slight impulse, becoming all sorts of feelings and images. It is by nature always in motion, and its motion is a kind of fantasy or thought. And in your case, your body, worn out with hardship, naturally makes your mind unsteady and prone to distraction. As for spirits, it is not plausible that they exist, or that, if they do exist,

they have a human form, or voice, or any power that reaches to us. I myself would have wished it were otherwise, so that we might take courage not only from so many weapons, horses, and ships, but also from the help of the gods, being leaders in the holiest and finest of undertakings.' With such words Cassius tried to soothe Brutus. As the soldiers were embarking behind the leading standards, two eagles swooped down together and were carried along with them,

and they accompanied the army, being fed by the soldiers, all the way to Philippi, but there, one day before the battle, they flew off and departed. Now most of the nearby peoples had already been made subject to Brutus. And if any city or ruler had been left out, they now brought them all in, and advanced as far as the sea near Thasos. There, finding Norbanus and his men encamped

at the place called the Narrows and around Symbolon, they surrounded them and forced them to withdraw and abandon their positions, and came close to capturing their entire force as well, since Caesar had been left behind by illness—had not Antony come to the rescue with astonishing speed, so that even Brutus's men could scarcely believe it. Caesar arrived ten days later and encamped opposite Brutus, and Antony opposite Cassius. The plain between

the two camps the Romans call the plains of Philippi; and never before had such great Roman forces come together against one another. In numbers, Brutus's side was not by much inferior to Caesar's, but in the splendor and adornment of their arms Brutus's army appeared marvelous, for most of their weapons were gold and silver, lavishly supplied, even though in other respects Brutus accustomed his commanders

to a temperate and disciplined way of life. But he thought that wealth carried close at hand and about one's person gave a certain pride to the more ambitious men, and made the more greedy ones more warlike, since they clung to their weapons as if to their own possessions. Now Caesar's men, having held a purification ceremony in their camp, distributed a little grain and five drachmas per man for the sacrifice, but Brutus's men,

looking down on them for this poverty or stinginess, first purified the army in the open, as is customary, then distributed great numbers of sacrificial victims by company, and fifty drachmas to each man, and so had the advantage in the goodwill and eagerness of their forces. Nevertheless, in the purification ceremony an ill omen seemed to occur for Cassius, for the lictor brought him his garland turned upside down. It is said

also that on an earlier occasion, at a certain festival and procession, a golden Victory belonging to Cassius fell, when the man carrying it slipped; and further, that day after day birds which feed on carrion hovered above the encampment, while a cluster of bees was spotted swarming at one point within the rampart, which the seers, out of religious caution, fenced off—a fear that, quietly and drawn from the teachings of Epicurus, was carrying Cassius himself along with it,

while it had wholly enslaved the soldiers. For this reason he was not eager, for the present, to have the decision made through battle, but thought it best to draw out the war over time, since they were strong in money but inferior in numbers of arms and men. Brutus, on the other hand, had for some time been eager to be decided by the swiftest of risks, whether to recover freedom for his country or to free all mankind from the troubles that beset them with expenses, campaigns, and

impositions; and now, seeing his own cavalry succeeding and prevailing in the skirmishes and advance engagements, his confidence was raised; and certain desertions to the enemy that occurred, and slanders against some, and suspicions, moved many of Cassius's friends in the council over to Brutus's side. But one of Brutus's own friends, Atillius, opposed this, saying that at least through the winter

telling him to wait. When someone asked Brutus whether he thought he would be better off a year from now, he said, "If nothing else, I will have lived a longer time." At this Cassius grew displeased, and Atillius offended the rest more than a little. It had, in any case, been decided to give battle the next day. Brutus, full of fine hopes and philosophical reasoning, rested through dinner; but Messala says that Cassius dined

apart by himself, bringing along only a small handful of close friends, and appeared pensive and silent, though this was not his nature. When dinner was over he took Messala's hand and, gripping it hard, said in Greek, as was his affectionate custom, "I call you to witness, Messala, that I am suffering the same fate as Pompey the Great, being forced to stake the fortune of our country on a single battle. Yet let us keep good courage as we look toward

Fortune, even though it is not right to distrust her merely because our plans have gone badly." Having said this, Messala says, Cassius embraced him last of all — he had also been invited to dine with him the next day, which was his birthday. At daybreak the signal for battle, a scarlet tunic, was set up before both Brutus's and Cassius's camps, while the two men themselves met between the armies and

Cassius said, "May it be, Brutus, that we win and spend all the rest of our time together in good fortune; but since the greatest of human affairs are the most uncertain, and if the battle is decided against our judgment it will not be easy for us to see each other again, what do you think about flight and death?" And Brutus answered, "Being young, Cassius, and inexperienced in affairs, I do not know how, in philosophy,

I let slip a rash statement. I blamed Cato for killing himself, on the ground that it was neither pious nor manly to give way before the divine and not accept without fear whatever befalls, but instead to run away from it. Now, however, in my present fortune I find myself of a different mind: if God does not judge well in the present situation, I have no need to go on testing other hopes and preparations, but will depart praising Fortune. On the Ides of March,

I gave my life to my country, and lived, because of her, another and free and glorious life since then." At this Cassius smiled, and embracing Brutus said, "With these thoughts let us march out against the enemy; for we shall either win the day, or need fear nothing from those who do." After this they discussed with their friends present the order of battle, and Brutus asked to lead the right wing himself, which by reason of experience

and age they thought belonged rather to Cassius. Nevertheless Cassius yielded this to him as well, and ordered Messala, whose legion was the most battle-hardened, to hold the position on the right side. Brutus immediately brought forward his cavalry, magnificently arrayed, and formed up his infantry without delay. Antony's men happened to be digging trenches from the marshes, around which they were encamped, out into the plain, and

cutting off Cassius's roads to the sea. Caesar lay in wait, not present himself owing to illness, but his forces were, not expecting the enemy to fight at all, but only to make sallies against the works and harass the diggers with light missiles and shouting; and paying no attention to those drawn up opposite, they were astonished at the shouting near the trenches, indiscernible in meaning yet loud and continuous.

Meanwhile, as dispatches were going round from Brutus to the officers with the watchword written on them, and he himself was riding past the ranks encouraging them, few managed to hear the watchword being passed along; most, without waiting, charged the enemy with a single rush and battle-cry. And from this disorder came unevenness and a tearing apart of the ranks, and Messala's

division first, then the units joined to it, passed by Caesar's left wing, and grazing its outermost edge and cutting down not many, but outflanking it, they burst into the camp. And Caesar himself, as he tells in his memoirs, had been carried out just a little before, on account of a friend of his, Marcus Artorius, who had seen a dream in his sleep bidding Caesar rise and withdraw from the camp; he was thought to have died.

For they drove their javelins and pikes through his empty litter. There was slaughter in the camp among those captured, and two thousand Lacedaemonians who had recently arrived as allies were cut down along with them. But those who, instead of surrounding Caesar's men, simply fell upon them, easily routed them in their confusion, and destroyed three legions hand to hand, and burst into the camp together with the fleeing men, carried along by the momentum of victory, having with

them Brutus himself. What the victors did not perceive, the occasion showed to the defeated. For pressing into the exposed and broken places of the opposing line, where the right wing had been torn away in pursuit, they pushed in but did not drive out the center, though they were locked in a great struggle there; but the left wing, confused and unaware of what had occurred, was put to flight by them, and chasing it back to the camp

they sacked it, with neither commander present. For Antony, as they say, had turned aside from the assault at the start and withdrawn into the marsh, and Caesar was nowhere to be seen, having gotten out of the camp; but some showed Brutus their bloodied swords, claiming to have killed him, describing the appearance and age he had. By now the center had driven back the opposing line with great slaughter, and it seemed altogether

that Brutus was victorious, just as Cassius seemed to be defeated. And this alone ruined their cause: that the one did not go to help Cassius, thinking himself already victorious, and the other did not wait for Brutus, thinking him already lost. As for the marker of victory, Messala counts as evidence the capture of three eagles and numerous standards seized from the enemy, whereas the enemy captured none from their side. As Brutus was withdrawing, now that Caesar's

camp had already been sacked, he was surprised not to see Cassius's headquarters standing high, as was its custom, visible all around, nor the rest of it in its place; for most of it had already been thrown down and pulled apart when the enemy burst in. But those of his companions who seemed to have sharper sight told him they saw many helmets gleaming, and many silver shields moving about in Cassius's camp; and it did not seem to them that either the number or

the equipment matched what would be left of a mere guard, nor did the number of corpses beyond seem as great as would be expected from so many legions defeated by force. This first gave Brutus a suspicion of the disaster; and leaving a guard at the enemy's camp, he called back those in pursuit and gathered them, intending to go to Cassius's aid. But the state of his own affairs was such that neither the first

charge of Brutus's men, made without watchword or command, had pleased him, nor, when after their victory they rushed at once to plunder and profit, neglecting to go round and encircle the enemy, was he satisfied with what was done. Through some delay and hesitation rather than eagerness and calculation on the part of the commanders, he was surrounded by the enemy's right wing; and when his cavalry at once broke away in flight toward the sea,

seeing also his infantry giving way, he tried to hold them and rally them. Snatching the standard from one standard-bearer who was fleeing, he planted it before his own feet, though not even the men stationed around his own person any longer stood by him with any eagerness. Thus forced back, he withdrew with a few men to a hill that had a view over the plain. But he himself could make out nothing except, with difficulty, the camp being plundered — for

his eyesight was weak — while the horsemen with him saw many riders approaching, whom Brutus had sent. Cassius supposed them to be enemies pursuing him. Nevertheless he sent one of those present, Titinius, to see. This man's approach did not go unnoticed by the riders, but as soon as they saw a man who was a friend and loyal to Cassius, they cried out for joy; his acquaintances among them embraced him

and greeted him, leaping down from their horses, while the rest rode around him in a circle with paeans and clamor, and by this excess of joy brought about the greatest of calamities. For Cassius thought that Titinius was truly being seized by the enemy, and saying just this — "Out of love of life we waited to see a friend fall captive to the enemy" — he retreated into an unoccupied tent, dragging along with him one

of his freedmen, Pindarus, whom he had kept ready for just this necessity ever since the disaster at Crassus's defeat. He had escaped the Parthians then; but now, drawing his cloak over his head and baring his neck, he offered it to be cut off. His head was found apart from his body, but no one ever saw Pindarus again after the killing, which gave

some the idea that he had killed the man without being ordered to. A little later the riders became visible, and Titinius, crowned by them, rode up to Cassius. But when, from the weeping and shouting of his lamenting and distressed friends, he learned the commander's fate and his mistake, he drew his sword, and after much reproach of his own slowness, killed himself. Brutus, having learned

of Cassius's defeat, was riding toward him, and heard of his death when already close to the camp. He wept over the body, and calling Cassius the last of the Romans, on the ground that Rome could no longer produce a spirit of such greatness, he had it wrapped and sent away to Thasos, so that its burial there might cause no disturbance. He himself then gathered the soldiers and comforted them; and seeing them all deprived

of necessities, he promised each man two thousand drachmas in place of what had been lost. At this they took heart from his words and marveled at the size of the gift; and they escorted him away with shouts of praise, hailing him as the sole commander among the four who had remained unbeaten in the battle. And the outcome bore witness that he had rightly believed he would prevail in the battle; for with only a few legions he routed

all who stood against him. And if he had used all his forces for the battle, and most of his men had not gone past the enemy in pursuit of plunder, it seems that no part of his army would have been left unconquered. Of his men there fell eight thousand, counting the camp servants who served in the army, whom Brutus called Bryges; of the enemy Messala says he believes more than twice that number fell, which is why they were even more discouraged —

those men, before a servant of Cassius named Demetrius reached Antony in the evening, having taken the cloak and the sword straight from the corpse. When these were brought, they took such heart that at daybreak they led out their armed forces for battle. Brutus, with both camps wavering precariously — for his own was crowded with prisoners and needed close guarding, while Cassius's men found the change

of commander hard to bear, and indeed there was in them, defeated as they were, a certain envy and hatred toward the victorious side — he decided to arm his army, but held back from battle. Of the prisoners, he ordered the mass of slaves, who were suspiciously mixed in among the arms, to be put to death; but of the free men he released some, saying that they had been captured by the enemy rather than

and were slaves there, but with him were free men and citizens. But when he saw his friends and officers implacably set against them, he saved them by hiding them and sending them away secretly. There was a certain Volumnius, a mime actor, and Sacculio, a jester, who had been captured, whom the friends brought before Brutus and accused, though he thought nothing of the matter, saying that even now they did not refrain from speaking and mocking to insult them. When

Brutus, occupied with other concerns, said nothing, Messala Corvinus demanded that they be scourged and handed over naked on a platform to the enemy's generals, so that they might know what sort of messmates and companions their soldiers wanted. Some of those present laughed, but Publius Casca, the first to strike Caesar, said, "It is not right, while Cassius lies dead, that we honor his memory with jesting and buffoonery. As for you,"

he said, "Brutus, you will show what regard you have for the memory of your commander, either by punishing or by keeping safe those who mock and speak ill of him." At this Brutus, quite displeased, said, "Why then do you ask me, Casca, instead of doing what you yourselves have decided?" Taking this answer as consent against the wretched men, they led them off and put them to death. After this he restored the promised gift to the

soldiers, and after a mild rebuke to them for charging the enemy in disorder without waiting for the watchword or command, he promised those who fought well that he would give over two cities for plunder and profit, Thessalonica and Sparta. This is the one charge against Brutus's life that has no defense — although far worse rewards of victory were paid to their soldiers by Antony and Caesar, who all but handed over nearly the whole of Italy

driving out the old inhabitants, so that they might seize land and cities that did not belong to them. But for these men the outcome that awaited was simply to rule and to prevail, whereas for Brutus, because of his reputation for virtue, the majority would allow him neither to win nor to survive except together with honor and justice — and this though Cassius was already dead, the man who had borne the blame for driving even Brutus into some of the harsher measures.

But just as when a rudder is smashed at sea men try to nail on and fit other timbers, not well, but out of necessity, fighting against the need, so Brutus, in so great a force and in circumstances so unsettled, having no general of equal weight, was compelled to make use of the men at hand and to do and say much of what pleased them. And it seemed that all the measures they thought would make Cassius's soldiers better were hard to manage,

for they were, in the camp, made bold by lack of discipline, but against the enemy, cowardly because of their defeat. Nor were things any better for Caesar and Antony, who were using up their supplies of necessities and, because of the low ground of their camp, were expecting a wretched winter. For being encamped near marshes, and after the battle when the autumn rains came on, they filled their tents with mud

and with water that froze at once from the cold. While they were in this condition, a report reached them of a disaster that had befallen their fleet at sea. For Brutus's ships, falling upon a great convoy being brought from Italy by Caesar, destroyed it, and of those who altogether escaped the enemy, only a few survived, eating the sails and ropes out of hunger. Hearing this, they hastened to have the matter decided by battle

before Brutus should perceive the extent of the good fortune that had befallen him. Indeed, as luck would have it, on one and the same day the two contests, on land and at sea, were both decided. But by some chance rather than through the fault of the commanders of the ships, Brutus remained ignorant of the success for twenty days. For he would not otherwise have advanced to a second battle, having prepared what was necessary for his army

for a long time, and being established in a strong position, so that his camp was both unaffected by winter and hard for the enemy to force, while being firmly master of the sea and having won, so far as concerned himself, on land — he had come to have great hopes and confidence. But since, as it seems, affairs were no longer manageable by the many, but required a monarchy, god, wishing to remove and

displace the one man who alone stood in the way of the man able to rule, cut off that piece of fortune, though it came very near to not escaping Brutus's notice. For on the day before the fighting was to begin, when evening had already come on, a certain Clodius, a deserter from the enemy, arrived, announcing that Caesar's men, having perceived that the fleet had been destroyed, were hastening to force a decisive battle. Speaking these things, the man was not believed, nor

did he even come into Brutus's sight, being altogether disregarded as one who had heard nothing sound but was reporting falsehoods to please. But that same night, they say, the apparition again came into Brutus's sight, and showing the same appearance, said nothing, but departed. Publius Volumnius, a philosopher and comrade-in-arms with Brutus from the beginning, does not report this

sign, but says that the first eagle became full of bees; and that the arm of one of the captains, of its own accord, burst forth with rose oil, and that though they wiped and rubbed it many times, it accomplished nothing. And before the battle itself, two eagles fell upon each other and fought in the space between the camps, and the plain held an unbelievable silence as everyone watched, and the one belonging to

Brutus gave way and fled. The Ethiopian became notorious, who, when the gate was opened, met the man carrying the eagle and was cut down with swords by the soldiers, who took it as an omen. Brutus, having led forward the phalanx and drawn it up facing the enemy, held back for a long time; for suspicions and reports against certain men kept coming to him as he inspected the army, and he saw that the cavalry were not at all eager

to begin the fighting, but were always waiting for the work of the infantry. Then suddenly a man skilled in war and distinguished for courage, riding out from beside Brutus, deserted to the enemy's side — a man named Camulatus. Seeing this, Brutus was struck with strong pain, and partly out of anger, partly out of fear of a greater defection and betrayal, he led his forces at once against the enemy, when the sun was already declining toward the ninth hour.

As for the part opposite himself, he prevailed and advanced, pressing upon the enemy's left wing as it gave way; and the cavalry, joining in, charged together with the infantry against the enemy who were now in confusion. But the other wing, in order not to be encircled, since the commanders extended it further while it was inferior in numbers, was torn apart in the middle, and becoming weak, could not hold out against the enemy, but fled first, and those who had cut through

at once encircled Brutus, who, though he displayed as much of a general's and a soldier's virtue as anyone could, both by hand and by judgment, amid the dangers, in pursuit of victory, was harmed by the very thing in which he had had the advantage in the earlier battle. For of the enemy, the side that was beaten there perished at once; but of Cassius's men who had been routed, few were destroyed, and those who survived, being terrified from their previous defeat,

filled most of the army with discouragement and confusion. There, too, Marcus, the son of Cato, fighting among the best and noblest of the young men, and being overpowered, did not flee nor yield, but using his hand and declaring who he was, naming his father, fell upon many corpses of the enemy; and the bravest of the others also fell, of

Brutus's men, facing the danger before him. There was a certain Lucilius, a good man among his companions; this man, seeing some barbarian horsemen in the pursuit paying no attention to anyone else but riding recklessly straight at Brutus, resolved to risk himself and stand in their way. And, falling a little behind, he himself said that he was Brutus; and he was believed when he begged to be brought to Antony, as though fearing Caesar,

but trusting Antony. They, welcoming their find and thinking they had had some marvelous stroke of fortune, brought the man along, it being already dark, having sent some of their own number ahead as messengers to Antony. Antony himself, then, delighted, went out to meet those bringing him, and the others, on learning that Brutus was being brought back alive, ran together, some considering his fortune pitiable, others thinking it unworthy of his fame, a prey seized by barbarians

brought about through love of life. When they were near, Antony halted, uncertain how he ought to greet Brutus; but Lucilius, brought before him and showing no lack of confidence, said, "Marcus Brutus, Antony, no enemy has taken and none ever will take; may fortune never so far prevail over virtue. He will be found either alive, or, if dead, lying in a manner worthy of himself. As for me, I have

come having deceived your soldiers, and I ask to suffer none of the irreparable penalties for it." When Lucilius had said this, and everyone was astonished, Antony, looking toward those who had brought him, said, "I suppose, fellow soldiers, you are taking this hard, thinking yourselves cheated by the mistake. But know well that you have caught something better than the prey you were seeking. For you came seeking an enemy, and you bring me a friend instead. As for Brutus, I do not know,

by the gods, what I would have done with him alive; but I would rather gain such men as friends than as enemies." Having said this, and embracing Lucilius, he entrusted him for the time to one of his friends, and afterward, employing him in everything, found him faithful and steadfast to the end. Brutus, meanwhile, having crossed a certain wooded and steep-banked stream, since darkness had already fallen, did not press on much farther, but settled himself in a hollow spot

with a great rock lying before it, only a few officers and friends being around him. First, looking up at the sky, which was full of stars, he uttered two verses, one of which Volumnius recorded: "Zeus, let him not escape you who is the cause of these evils" — but he says he forgot the other. A little later, naming each of the companions who had fallen in the battle before him,

he groaned most of all at the memory of Flavius and of Labeo. Labeo had been his legate, and Flavius the prefect of the engineers. Meanwhile someone, thirsty himself and noticing that Brutus was in the same state, grabbed a helmet and hurried down toward the river. As a noise arose on the other side, Volumnius went forward to look, and with him Dardanus the shield-bearer; and when they came back

shortly after, they asked about the drink, and Brutus, smiling very much in his usual manner, said to Volumnius, "It has been drunk up, but another will be brought to you." The same man was sent again, and was in danger of being captured by the enemy, and barely escaped, wounded. When Brutus guessed that not many had died in the battle, Statyllius undertook to force his way through the enemy — since there was no other means of viewing

the camp — to raise a torch if he found things there safe, and then to come back to him. The torch was in fact raised when Statyllius had gotten through into the camp, but when he had not come back even after a considerable while, Brutus remarked, "Should Statyllius be alive, he will come back." It happened, however, that on his way back he fell in with the enemy and was killed. As the night wore on, Brutus, leaning back where he happened to be sitting, spoke

to his servant Clitus. As Clitus was silent and weeping, he drew Dardanus the shield-bearer aside and said certain things to him privately. Finally he reminded Volumnius himself, in Greek, of their studies and their training together, and urged him to lay hold of the sword with his hand and help drive home the blow. When Volumnius refused, and the others likewise, and someone said that

they must not stay but flee, Brutus, rising, said, "Yes indeed, we must flee — not with our feet, though, but with our hands." And clasping each man's right hand, very cheerfully, he declared it gave him deep satisfaction that not one of his friends had turned traitor to him, and that he had a complaint against fortune only on his country's behalf; and he considered himself more blessed than those who had conquered, not

only yesterday or the day before, but even now, in that he was leaving behind a reputation for virtue which those who had prevailed would never leave behind by arms or by wealth, so that it would not seem that unjust and wicked men, having destroyed good and just men, ruled rightfully. After asking them, and urging them besides, to look to their own safety, he moved off a short distance with two or three others, among whom was Strato, who had become his friend through the study of rhetoric,

and, placing this man closest beside himself, and setting the naked sword's hilt against his own hands, both together, he fell upon it and died. Others say that it was not he himself but Strato, at Brutus's earnest entreaty, who, turning away his face, held the sword steady; and that Brutus, rushing forward against it, drove it into his chest, and died quickly. This Strato, Messala,

who had been a companion of Brutus, later, having reconciled with Caesar, brought before him at a leisure moment, and, in tears, said, "This is the man, Caesar, who did my Brutus the last service." Caesar, welcoming him, kept him among the good Greeks around him, both in his labors and in the struggles at Actium; and Messala himself, they say, was later praised by

Caesar because, although he had become his bitterest enemy at Philippi on account of Brutus, at Actium he showed himself most eager on his behalf. "I, indeed," he said, "Caesar, have always sided with the better and more just cause and party." As for Brutus, Antony, on finding him dead, ordered that the corpse be covered with the finest and most expensive of his own purple robes, but later, learning that the cloak had been stolen, he put to death the man who had taken it.

The remains he sent to Brutus's mother Servilia. As for Porcia, Brutus's wife, Nicolaus the philosopher and Valerius Maximus record that, wishing to die, since none of her friends would allow it, but they pressed round and kept close watch over her, she snatched up burning coals from the fire and swallowed them, and closing and holding shut her mouth, so died. And yet there is in circulation a letter of Brutus to his friends

reproaching them and lamenting over Porcia, on the ground that she had been neglected by them and, because of illness, had chosen to leave life. It seems, then, that Nicolaus was mistaken about the time, since the suffering and the woman's love and the manner of her death are, in fact, suggested even by the little letter itself, if indeed it is genuine.

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