Cassius Dio’s (ca. 150–235 B.C.E.) eighty-volume Roman History was the result of more than twenty years of scholarly labor. Written when the Roman Empire was near the peak of its size and power, Dio’s work covered the entire span of Roman history, from Rome’s mythic origins to 229 B.C.E. In this excerpt, Octavian delivers a speech to his troops on the eve of their clash with the forces of Antony and Cleopatra. It should be noted that while Dio’s History was the result of extensive archival research, like other historians of his era, he did not think it inappropriate to put words into the mouths of his subjects when direct evidence did not exist. Thus, the excerpt included below is not a transcription of Octavian’s words, but rather Dio’s opinion about what Octavian was likely to have said. In Dio’s version, Octavian delivers a speech that seems as much aimed at swaying Roman public opinion as it does at rallying his troops for battle. As you read, pay attention to the contrast the speech creates between Roman and “foreign” values.

“Observing, soldiers, both from what I have learned by hearsay and from what I have proved by experience, that almost all and the greatest undertakings of warfare, or rather, I may say, the undertakings of men without exception, turn out in favour of those whose thoughts and acts are upon the higher level of justice and reverence for the gods, I have myself taken to heart this truth above all others, and I advise you also to have regard for it. For even if we possess ever so vast and mighty a force, such that even a man who chose the less just of two courses might expect to win with its aid, nevertheless I base my confidence far more upon the causes underlying the war than upon such a force. For that we who are Romans and lords of the greatest and best portion of the world should be despised and trodden under foot by an Egyptian woman is unworthy of our fathers, who overthrew Pyrrhus, Philip, Perseus, and Antiochus, who drove the Numantians and the Carthaginians from their homes, who cut down the Cimbri and the Ambrones; it is unworthy also of ourselves, who have subjugated the Gauls, subdued the Pannonians, advanced as far as the Ister, crossed the Rhine, and passed over the sea into Britain. Would not all those who have performed the exploits I have named grieve mightily if they should learn that we had succumbed to an accursed woman? Should we not be acting most disgracefully if, after surpassing all men everywhere in valour, we should then meekly bear the insults of this throng, who, oh heavens! are Alexandrians and Egyptians (what worse or what truer name could one apply to them?), who worship reptiles and beasts as gods, who embalm their own bodies to give them the semblance of immortality, who are most reckless in effrontery but most feeble in courage, and who, worst of all, are slaves to a woman and not to a man, and yet have dared to lay claim to our possessions and to use us to help them acquire them, expecting that we will voluntarily give up to them the prosperity which we possess? Who would not lament at seeing Roman soldiers acting as bodyguards of their queen? Who would not groan at hearing that Roman knights and senators fawn upon her like eunuchs? Who would not weep when he both hears and sees Antony himself, the man twice consul, often imperator, to whom was committed in common with me the management of the public business, who was entrusted with so many cities, so many legions — when he sees that this man has now abandoned all his ancestors’ habits of life, has emulated all alien and barbaric customs, that he pays no honour to us or to the laws or to his fathers’ gods, but pays homage to that wench as if she were some Isis or Selene, calling her children Helios and Selene, and finally taking for himself the title of Osiris or Dionysus, and, after all this, making presents of whole islands and parts of the continents, as though he were master of the whole earth and the whole sea? All these things seem marvellous and incredible to you, soldiers, as I am well aware, but you ought therefore to be the more indignant. For if that is actually true which you do not believe even when you hear it, and if that man in his luxurious indulgence does commit acts at which anyone would grieve who learns of them, would it not be reasonable that you should go past all bounds in your rage?

“Yet I myself was so devoted to him at the beginning that I gave him a share in our command, married my sister to him, and granted him legions. After that I felt so kindly, so affectionately, towards him, that I was unwilling to wage war on him merely because he had insulted my sister, or because he neglected the children she had borne him, or because he preferred the Egyptian woman to her, or because he bestowed upon that woman’s children practically all your possessions, or for any other cause. My reason was, first of all, that I did not think it proper to assume the same attitude toward Antony as toward Cleopatra; for I adjudged her, if only on account of her foreign birth, to be an enemy by reason of her very conduct, but I believed that he, as a citizen, might still be brought to reason. Later I entertained the hope that he might, if not voluntarily, at least reluctantly, change his course as a result of the decrees passed against her. Consequently I did not declare war upon him at all. He, however, has looked haughtily and disdainfully upon my efforts, and will neither be pardoned though we would fain pardon him, nor be pitied though we try to pity him. He is either heedless or mad — for, indeed, I have heard and believed that he has been bewitched by that accursed woman — and therefore pays no heed to our generosity or kindness, but being a slave to that woman, he undertakes the war and its self-chosen dangers on her behalf against us and against his country. In view of all this, what is left to us but the duty of fighting him, together with Cleopatra, and repelling him?

“Therefore let no one count him a Roman, but rather an Egyptian, nor call him Antony, but rather Serapion; let no one think he was ever consul or imperator, but only gymnasiarch. For he has himself, of his own free will, chosen the latter names instead of the former, and casting aside all the august titles of his own land, has become one of the cymbal players from Canopus. Again, let no one fear him on the ground that he will turn the scale of the war. For even in the past he was of no account, as you who conquered him at Mutina know clearly enough. And even if he did at one time attain to some valour through campaigning with us, be well assured that he has now spoiled it utterly by his changed manner of life. For it is impossible for one who leads a life of royal luxury, and coddles himself like a woman, to have a manly thought or do a manly deed, since it is an inevitable law that a man assimilates himself to the practices of his daily life. A proof of this is that in the one war which he has waged in all this long time, and the one campaign that he has made, he caused the death of vast numbers of citizens in the battles, returned in utter disgrace from Praaspa, and lost ever so many men besides in his flight. So, then, if any one of us were called upon to execute a ridiculous dance or to cut a lascivious fling, such a person would surely have to yield the honours to him, since these are the specialities he has practised, but now that the occasion calls for arms and battle, what is there about him that anyone should dread? His physical fitness? But he has passed his prime and become effeminate. His strength of mind? But he plays the woman and has worn himself out with unnatural lust. His piety toward our gods? But he is at war with them as well as with his country. His faithfulness to his allies? But who does not know how he deceived and imprisoned the Armenian? His kindness to his friends? But who has not seen the men who have miserably perished at his hands? His reputation with the soldiers? But who even of them has not condemned him? A sign of this is that numbers daily come over to our side. For my part I think that all our citizens will do this, as on a former occasion when he was on his way from Brundisium to Gaul. So long, to be sure, as they expected to get rich without danger, some were very glad to cleave to him; but they will not care to fight against us, their own countrymen, on behalf of what does not belong to them at all, especially when they may without risk gain both their lives and their happiness by joining us.

“Some one may say, however, that he has many allies and much wealth. But how have we been wont to conquer the inhabitants of the continent of Asia? The famous Scipio Asiaticus can bear witness, or the fortunate Sulla, or Lucullus, or Pompey, or my father Caesar, or you yourselves, who vanquished the supporters of Brutus and Cassius. This being so, in proportion as you think the wealth of Antony and his allies is so much greater than that of others, you ought to be all the more eager to make it your own; for it is worth while, in order to win the greatest prizes, to wage the greatest contests. And yet I can tell you of no greater prize that is set before you than to maintain the renown of your forefathers, to preserve your own proud traditions, to take vengeance on those who are in revolt against us, to repel those who insult you, to conquer and rule all mankind, to allow no woman to make herself equal to a man. Against the Taurisci and Iapydes and Dalmatians and Pannonians you yourselves who are now present battled most zealously, often to win a few walls and a barren land; and you subdued all these people, though they are admittedly most warlike; yes, by Jupiter, against Sextus also, to win Sicily only, and against this very Antony, to win Mutina only, you carried on similar struggles, and so zealously that you came out victorious over both. And now will you show any less zeal against a woman who has designs upon all your possessions, and against her husband who has distributed to her children all your property, and against their noble associates and table companions whom they themselves stigmatize as ‘privy’ councillors? Why should you? Because of their number? But no number of persons can conquer valour. Because of their race? But they have practised carrying burdens rather than warfare. Because of their experience? But they know better how to row than how to fight at sea. I, for my part, am really ashamed that we are going to contend with such creatures, by vanquishing whom we shall gain no glory, whereas if we are defeated we shall be disgraced.

Source: Earnest Cary, trans., Dio’s Roman History (London: William Heinemann, 1914), pp. 487–199.

Questions to Consider