year that I have been a mark for the attempts of all wicked men; therefore, they have paid to the republic (not to say to me) the penalty of their wickedness.  As yet the republic has preserved me in safety for itself.  I am almost afraid to say what I am going to say; for I know that any accident may happen to a man; but still, when I was once hemmed in by the united force of many most influential men, I yielded voluntarily, and fell in such a manner as to be able to rise again in the most honourable manner.

Can I, then, appear as cautious and as prudent as I ought to be if I commit myself to a journey so full of enemies and dangers to me?  Those men who are concerned in the government of the republic ought at their death to leave behind them glory, and not reproaches for their fault, or grounds for blaming their folly.  What good man is there who does not mourn for the death of Trebonius?  Who is there who does not grieve for the loss of such a citizen and such a man?  But there are men who say, (hastily indeed, but still they do say so,) that he deserves to be grieved for less because he did not take precautions against a desperately wicked man.  In truth, a man who professes to be himself a defender of many men, wise men say, ought in the first place to show himself able to protect his own life.  I say, that when one is fenced round by the laws and by the fear of justice, a man is not bound to be afraid of everything, or to take precautions against all imaginable designs; for who would dare to attack a man in daylight, on a military road, or a man who was well attended, or an illustrious man?  But these considerations have no bearing on the present time, nor in my case; for not only would a man who offered violence to me have no fear of punishment, but he would even hope to obtain glory and rewards from those bands of robbers.

XI.  These dangers I can guard against in the city; it is easy for me to look around and see where I am going out from, whither I am going, what there is on my right hand, and on my left.  Shall I be able to do the same on the roads of the Apennines? in which, even if there should be no ambush, as there easily may be, still my mind will be kept in such a state of anxiety as not to be able to attend to the duties of an embassy.  But suppose I have escaped all plots against me, and have passed over the Apennines; still I have to encounter a meeting and conference with Antonius.  What place am I to select?  If it is outside the camp, the rest may look to themselves,—­I think that death would come upon me instantly.  I know the frenzy of the man; I know his unbridled violence.  The ferocity of his manners and the savageness of his nature is not usually softened even by wine.  Then, inflamed by anger and insanity, with his brother Lucius, that foulest of beasts, at his side, he will never keep his sacrilegious and impious hands from me.  I can recollect conferences with most bitter enemies, and with citizens in a state of the most bitter disagreement.