"Yet," said Livia, "since some men are so constituted as to want to do wrong in any event, let us guard against them. We have many soldiers who protect us,—some marshaled against foreign foes and others about your person,—and a large retinue, so that by their help we may live safely both at home and abroad."
"I do not need," said Augustus, interrupting, "to state that many men on many occasions have perished at the hands of their immediate associates. For in addition to other disadvantages this, too, is a most distressing thing in monarchies, that we fear not only enemies (like other people) but also our friends. Many more rulers have been plotted against by such persons than by those who had nothing to do with them. This is to be expected, since the inner circle is with the potentate day and night, exercising and eating, and he has to take food and drink that they have prepared. Moreover, against acknowledged enemies you can array these very men, but against the latter themselves there is no one else to employ as an ally. To us, therefore, the whole time through, solitude is dreadful, company dreadful: to be unguarded is terrifying, but most terrifying are the guards themselves: enemies are difficult to deal with, but still greater difficulties are presented by our friends. They must all be called friends, whether they are such or not, but even if one should find them most reliable, even so one may not trust one's self in their company with a clear, carefree, unsuspecting heart. This, then, and the fact that it is requisite to take measures of defence against ordinary conspirators, make the situation overwhelmingly dreadful. For to be always compelled to be inflicting punishment and chastisement upon somebody is highly repugnant to men of character."
[-16-] "You are right," answered Livia, "and I have some advice to give you,—at least, if you prove willing to receive it and willing not to censure me that, woman as I am, I dare to make suggestions to you which no one else, even of your most intimate friends, would venture. And this is not through any lack of knowledge on their part, but because they are not bold enough to speak."
"Say on," rejoined Augustus, "and let us have it."
"I will tell you," continued Livia, "without hesitation, because I share your comforts and adversities, and while you are safe I myself hold dominion day by day, whereas if you come to any harm (which Heaven forbid!) I shall perish with you. Well, then, human nature persuades some to sin under any conditions, and there is no device for controlling it when it has once started toward any goal. What seems good to persons,—not to rehearse the vices of the masses,—at once induces very many of them to do wrong. [-17-] The boast of birth and pride of wealth, greatness of honor, audacity founded on bravery, and conceit due to authority, bring shipwreck to not a few. There is no making nobility ignoble, bravery cowardly, or prudence foolish: it is impossible. Nor, again, is it to curtail men's abundance or to strike down ambitions where conduct has been correct: that is iniquitous. That he who is on the defensive and anticipates others' movements should incur injury and ill repute is inevitable. Come, let us change our policy and spare some of them. To me it seems far more feasible to set things right by kindness than by harshness. Not only are those who grant pardon loved by the objects of their clemency, who strive to repay the favor, but all others both respect and reverence them and will not readily endure to see harm done to them. Sovereigns, however, who maintain an inexorable anger not only are hated by those who have aught to fear, but cause uneasiness to all the rest. As a result, men plot against them to avoid meeting an untimely fate. Do you not notice that physicians very rarely have recourse to cutting and burning, wishing to avoid aggravating a person's disease, but in the majority of cases soothe and cure by means of fomentations and mild drugs? Do not think that because those ailments have to do with the body and these with the mind that they are essentially different. Very many experiences of the body are similar in a way to what goes on in the souls of men, no matter how bodiless the latter may be. The soul contracts under the influence of fear and expands under that of wrath. Pain humiliates men and audacity puffs them up. The correspondences then are very close and therefore both kinds of trouble need treatments which are much alike. A gentle speech uttered to a man causes all his unruliness to subside, just as a harsh one provokes to anger even an easy-going person. The granting of pardon melts the most audacious, just as punishment irritates the most mild. Acts of violence inflame all men in every instance, even though such measures may be thoroughly just, but considerate treatment mollifies them. Hence one would more readily brave great dangers through persuasion and voluntarily, than under compulsion. Such is the inherent, unalterable quality of both methods of behavior that even among brute beasts that have no mind many of the strongest and fiercest are domesticated by petting and are subdued by coaxing, whereas many of the most cowardly and weak are made unmanageable and maddened by cruelties and terrors.
[-18-] "I am not saying that we must spare absolutely all wrongdoers, for we must cut out of the way the daredevil and busybody, the man of evil nature and evil devices, who gives himself up to an unyielding, persistent baseness, just as we treat parts of the body that are quite incurable. But of the rest, who err through youth or ignorance or a misunderstanding or some other chance, some purposely and others unwillingly, it is proper to admonish some with words, to bring others to their senses by threats, and to handle still others with moderation in some different way, precisely as in other [matters] … all men impose upon some greater and upon others lesser punishments. So far as these persons are concerned you may employ moderation without danger, inflicting upon some the penalty of banishment, upon others that of loss of political rights, upon still others a money fine. You may also place some of them in country districts or in certain cities.
"In the past a few have been brought to their senses by missing what they hoped for, by failing to secure what they aimed at. A degradation in seats[13] and factional disputes involving disgrace, as well as being injured or terrified before they could make a move, has improved not a few. Yet one well born and courageous would prefer to die rather than to have any such experience. As a result, vengeance would become not easier for the plotters but more difficult, and we should be able to live in safety, since not a word could be said against us. At present we are thought to kill many through anger,[14] many because of a desire for their money, others through fear of their bravery, and a great many others on account of jealousy of their excellence. No one will readily believe that a person possessing so great an authority and power can seriously be the object of the plots of any unarmed individual. Some talk as above and others say that we hear a great many lies and foolishly pay heed to many of them, believing them true. They assert that those who spy into and overhear doubtful matters concoct many falsehoods, some being influenced by enmity, others by wrath, some because they can get money from their foes, others because they can get no money from the same persons, and further, that they report not only the fact of certain persons having committed suspicious actions or intending to commit them, but also how A said so-and-so, and B hearing it was silent, how one man laughed and somebody else wept.
[-19-] "I could cite innumerable other details of like nature which, no matter how true they were, are no business for free men to concern themselves about or report to you. If they went unnoticed, they would do you no harm, but when heard they might irritate you even against your will: and that ought by no means to happen, especially in a ruler of the people. Now many believe that from this cause large numbers unjustly perish, some without a trial and others by some unwarranted condemnation of a court. They will not admit that the evidence given or statements made under torture or any similar proof against them is genuine. This is the sort of talk, though some of it may not be just, which is reported in the case of practically all so put to death. And you ought, Augustus, to be free not only from injustice but from the appearance of it. It is sufficient for a private individual to avoid irregular conduct, but it behooves a ruler to incur not even the suspicion of it. You are the leader of human beings, not of beasts, and the only way you can make them really friendly to you is by persuading them by every means and constantly, without a break, that you will wrong no one either voluntarily or involuntarily. A man can be forced to fear another but he has to be persuaded to love him: and he is to be persuaded by the good treatment he himself receives and the benefits he sees conferred on others. The person, however, who suspects that somebody has perished unjustly both fears that he may some day meet the same fate and is compelled to hate the one responsible for the deed. And to be hated by one's subjects is (besides containing no element of good) exceedingly unprofitable. The general mass of people feel that ordinary individuals must defend themselves against all who wrong them in any way or else be despised and consequently oppressed: but rulers, they think, ought to prosecute those who wrong the State but endure those who are thought to commit offences against them privately; rulers can not be harmed by disdain or assault, because they have many guardians to protect them.
[-20-] "When I hear this and turn my attention to this I feel inclined to tell you outright to put no one to death for any such reason. Places of supremacy are established for the preservation of subjects, to prevent them from being injured either by one another or by foreign tribes: such places are not, by Jupiter, for the purpose of allowing the rulers themselves to hard their subjects. It is most glorious to be able not to destroy most of the citizens but to save them all, if possible. It is right to educate them by laws and, favours and admonitions, that they may be right-minded and further to watch and guard them, so that even if they wish to do wrong they may not be able. And if there is anything ailing, we must cure and correct it in some way, in order that there may be no entire loss. To endure the offences of the multitude is a task requiring great prudence and force: if any one should simply punish all of them as they deserve, before he knew it he would have destroyed the majority of mankind. For these reasons, then, I give you my opinion to the effect that you should not inflict the death penalty for any such error, but bring the men to their senses in some other way, so that they will not again do anything dangerous. What crime could a man commit shut up on an island, or in the country, or in some city, not only destitute of a throng of servants and money, but under guard, if it be necessary? If the enemy were anywhere near here or some alien force had dominion over this sea so that one of the prisoners might escape to them and do us some harm, or if, again, there were strong cities in Italy with fortifications and weapons, so that if a man seized them he might become a menace to us, that would be a different story. But all towns in this neighborhood are unarmed and lacking any walls that would serve in war, and the enemy is removed from them by vast distances; a long stretch of sea, and a journey by land including mountains and rivers hard to cross lie between them and us.
Why, then, should one fear this man or that man, defenceless, private citizens, here in the middle of your empire and enclosed by your armed forces? I can not see how any one could conceive such a notion or how the maddest madman could accomplish anything.