me, yet I ask you to hear me with attention--as indeed you do; for
it is right that in such cases men's feelings should be roused not
merely by the knowledge of the facts, but by calling them back to their
remembrance; though we must dash at once, I believe, into the middle of
his history, lest we should be too long in getting to the end".

The peroration is noble and dignified, in the orator's best style. He
still supposes himself addressing his enemy. He has warned Antony that
Caesar's fate may be his: and he is not unconscious of the peril in which
his own life may stand.

"But do you look to yourself--I will tell you how it stands with me. I
defended the Commonwealth when I was young--I will not desert it now I am
old. I despised the swords of Catiline--I am not likely to tremble before
yours. Nay, I shall lay my life down gladly, if the liberty of Rome can be
secured by my death, so that this suffering nation may at last bring to
the birth that which it his long been breeding.[1] If, twenty years ago, I
declared in this house that death could never be said to have come before
its time to a man who had been consul of Rome, with how much more truth,
at my age, may I say it now! To me indeed, gentlemen of the Senate, death
may well be a thing to be even desired, when I have done what I have done
and reaped the honours I have reaped. Only two wishes I have,--the one,
that at my death I may leave the Roman people free--the immortal gods can
give me no greater boon than this; the other, that every citizen may meet
with such reward as his conduct towards the state may have deserved".

[Footnote 1: _I.e._, the making away with Antony.]

The publication of this unspoken speech raised for the time an enthusiasm
against Antony, whom Cicero now openly declared to be an enemy to the
state. He hurled against him Philippic after Philippic. The appeal at the
end of that which comes the sixth in order is eloquent enough.

"The time is come at last, fellow-citizens; somewhat too late, indeed, for
the dignity of the people of Rome, but at least the crisis is so ripe,
that it cannot now be deferred an instant longer. We have had one calamity
sent upon us, as I may say, by fate, which we bore with--in such sort as
it might be borne. If another befalls us now, it will be one of our own
choosing. That this Roman people should serve any master, when the gods
above have willed us to be the masters of the world, is a crime in the
sight