Machiavelli's New Modes and Orders: A Study of the Discourses on Livy 0801411823

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MACHIAVKLLI’S NKW MODKS AND ORDKRS

A Study of the Discourses on Livy

By the same author The Spirit of Liberalism Statesmanship and Party Government: A Study of Burke and Bolingbroke

M ACHIAVELLI’S NEW MODES AND ORDERS A Study of the

Discourses on Livy

HARVEY C. MANSFIELD, Jr.

Cornell University Press Ithaca and London

Copyright © 1979 by Cornell University All rights reserved. Except for brief quotations in a review, this book, or parts thereof, must not be reproduced in any form without permission in writing from the publisher. For information address Cornell University Press, 124 Roberts Place, Ithaca, New York 14850. First published 1979 by Cornell University Press. Published in the United Kingdom by Cornell University Press Ltd., 2-4 Brook Street, London WlY 1AA.

International Standard Book Number 0-8014-1182-3 Library of Congress Catalog Card Number 79-12380 Printed in the United States of America. Librarians: Library of Congress cataloging information appears on the last page of the book.

i.

CONTENTS Preface Acknowledgments Abbreviations

7 15 17

Machiavelli’s Dedicatory Letter

21

book I

Introduction The Building of (jtiet? (1 1) Founders and I heir Reputation rheTJse~dr~Retlgi(m (I 1 1 -4 5) Living under a Prince (1 16V-18)

25 28 32 63 69 79

The Third King (I 19-24)

88

I he Tyranny of the New Prince A Grateful People (I 28-(?2j) Ja I he Dictator and the Decemvirate (I 3 3-45) Pear and Glory in the Multitude (I 46-59) Conclusion (1 60)

97

The Ordering of Regimes (1*2-8)

101 110 139 177

book II

1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8.

Introduction How Rome Acquired Its Empire (II 1-5) I he Cause of Rome’s Subjection (II 6-10) The Beginnings of Modernity (II 1 l-lTJC Idle Modern Arrhy~(!TT6-18)' False Opinions (II 19-22) ' Reasons or Causes (II 23-25) I he Passions of Idleness (II 26-32) The Captain’s Free Commission (II 33)

181 189 206 219 232 247 259 273 293

BOOK III

Introduction 0 ) L G 1. I he Founder-Captain (III 1-15) T T*. Virtue and the Multitude (III 16-34) 3. Machiavelli’s Strategy (III 35^49) Index

297 299 364 411 443

Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2019 with funding from The Arcadia Fund

https://archive.org/details/machiavellisnewmOOmans

PREFACE This study of Machiavelli’s Discourses on Livy is in the nature of a commen¬ tary, a somewhat obsolete mode of discussion that deserves a return to favor. A commentary attempts to bring forth and interpret an author’s intent, and so supposes that he has one, that it is worth finding, and that it is not manifest on the surface. A commentary therefore seeks out and adopts the author’s view point as its own until the author’s intent becomes clear and criticism of it becomes necessary. Usually the author—and certainly Machiavelli—compares himself w ith other w riters and makes claims of novelty or superiority that require one to judge him sound or not. So the task of commentary leads to the duty of criticism of its ow n motion and does not need to begin from a critical stance. Or should it be said that it is impossible to understand past intentions, and that the scholar is forced to an effort of creativity? Such creativity, some might add, avoids an arbitrary imposition of external standards only, and precisely, when the creativity is felt to emerge from the scholar’s own needs. Machiavelli’s books are then reduced to matter offering both guidance and resistance to the interpreter. T he “matter” could be described as it has been by L. J. Walker in his invaluable researches into w hat scholars call the “sources” (meaning the matter) of Machiavelli’s Discourses; or the matter could be restated or recreated for our times, as in a notable recent interpretation by Claude Lefort. Yet how do we know that the most creative interpretation w ill not coincide with Machiavelli’s intention until we find his intention? The scholar’s own needs may have been shaped by Machiavelli’s thought, and he will not succeed in dismantling his obligation to Machiavelli until he knows what it is. I Ie w ill not have sufficient incentive to succeed in know ing it, how ever, if he believes that Machiavelli cannot have had an intention or an intention relevant to us. It is true that Machiavelli observes Livy putting words in the mouths of the men he w rites about, making them his characters; and Machiavelli could be said w ith his Discourses to have appropriated Livy’s characters for himself and thus to have re-formed the Livian matter. Nonetheless, for him this act of “creation” (a word he uses politically to mean “instituting” or “election ”) implies a criticism of Livy’s intention, not a denial that it exists, and the difference between Livy and his use of Livy is intended to make us aw are of his own intention.

8

PREFACE

The result of the creative interpretation is not very creative, because it denies to Machiavelli the possibility of any great creativity. In making him readily available to scholars, such interpretation leaves nothing concealed and indeed is forced to assert that nothing has been concealed. As we know from Machiavelli’s chapter on conspiracies (III 6) that one cannot plan a change of government without concealing some part of the plan, we infer from this supposed incapabil¬ ity that his intent, such as it could be, was ingenuous and his thoughts a gift of his fortune, innocent of any “firm disposition. . . to kill the prince.” Overes¬ timating the difficulty of understanding Machiavelli comes to the same thing as underestimating the difficulty as it becomes apparent that the creativity claimed by interpreters comes to nothing more than forced enthusiasm for Machiavelli the harbinger of modernity. Since Machiavelli is not allowed to be creative, he has been presented as either scientist or patriot. As scientist, he did not develop a methodology that would enable him to be ranked among the founders of modern science; and as patriot, his loyalty w as divided betw een Florence and Italy, not to mention wider boundaries, so that his intention disappears in his influence, thus dissipated, in Italian history. In both respects Machiavelli fal¬ tered in the foresight or occult virtue that would have enabled him to anticipate later developments, or should we say that he knew how to curb his unruly prescience so that he remained a representative man of his time, not too dull and not too sharp? Certainly he is seen as a man of the Renaissance, hence encum¬ bered by the past and distracted by a futile dream of reviving it. This scholarly opinion was conceived in opposition to the popular opinion of Machiavelli, expressed in the term “Machiavellian,” that he was a teacher qf evil. That “vulgar” opinion (let us call it) implies greater responsibility in the role of teacher than can be ascribed to a mere harbinger. The term “Machiavel¬ lian” applies to neither lazy, half-hearted evil nor the wholehearted but some¬ times inadequate wickedness of an evil nature, but rather to a perfected, schem¬ ing evil in which everything is plotted and nothing left to chance. Then if one should apply the term “Machiavellian” to Machiavelli himself, the vulgar opin¬ ion would point to the possibility of a more complicated Machiavelli than it knows of, because the intention behind his immoral ism may have been some¬ thing of “common benefit to each one” of mankind. One can ascend, that is, from the simple denunciation of moral evil by means of the accusation of schem¬ ing evil. One cannot ascend, however, from an opinion that in its superiority does not admit the need or possibility of ascent and dismisses Machiavelli’s reputation for Machiavellianism as simply false. If the scholarly opinion would admit that Machiavelli had an intention, we might say that it opposes the vulgar opinion out of a desire to do justice to Machiavelli’s humane intention. Envy of his power is a more likely motive, however, perhaps not conscious envy of Machiavelli the founder but that gen¬ eral envy of founders arising out of bad conscience and loss of faith in modernity, expressed in the willingness, nay eagerness, to attribute our liberty

PREFACE

9

as well as its ills to the inevitable motions of unconscious forces. In dismissing Machiavelli’s vulgar reputation as false, present-day scholars depreciate his in¬ fluence to a widely misunderstood Machiavellianism. They deny his power to introduce “new modes and orders,” so that the question of his responsibility for modernity is not raised or is raised in terms that are not sufficiently broad and uncompromising. That question is the underlying, if not the thematic, question of my study. The theme is Machiavelli’s intention as he presents it to us in 142 chapters of the Discourses on Livy. Machiavelli is most himself when he is making his ow n choices and developing his ow n designs. I iis intention is most visible not in his actions or writings as a Florentine secretary, where he was subject to others, but in his books, and only in the two books in which jae claims to have presented everything he know s, The Prince and the Discourses on Livy. These books have a special status in his Avorks by'his ow n statement, apart from their reputation as his two major works, and each is to be read by itself w ithout reference to any¬ thing outside it, except in pursuit of Machiavelli’s intended meaning and under his direction. Any reference to what Machiavelli must have meant because of some external circumstance supposedly unrecognized by him w ill prevent an undistorted view of Machiavelli’s meaning and will impose the interpreter’s view instead, so that the whole inquiry is tainted by premature criticism and results merely in another Machiavellianism. It would be foolish to deny the aid of historical know ledge in understanding Machiavclli’s allusions and stories and to overlook other w ritings of his that might confirm one’s interpretation or not; but it is futile to make one’s understanding of Machiavelli’s intention de¬ pend on them. When indeed w e need something that is not in the Discourses in order to understand the Discourses, Machiavelli w ill tell us so in the Discourses. Or if he does not, that is his mistake; but w e should be very slow to conclude that he has not, considering the necessary obscurities of his communication. In examining these two books, one sees immediately that they are, and are said to be, w ritten on sensitive topics, introducing “new modes and orders’’ in face of the “envious nature of men” and advising suspicious princes w ho are rightly suspicious of ambitious advisers. One must then infer that even where Machiavelli is most himself he is subject to others or subject to the necessity of using others to further his design. I le will have to be careful in communicating that design not to say too much or too little. One can legitimately ask: does he have a design or intention? He surely says that he has a design in the Dedicatory Letters to both The Prince and the Discourses, more openly in the latter. Whether he has a design, .how far it extends, and w hether any human being can have intendeaso much are matters to be resolved as we look for evidence of his intention, and must not be foreclosed prior to inquiry. One must make a careful inspection of The Prince and the Discourses, looking for an intention that one would expect to be only partly visible in broad day¬ light. This is not to say that we are entitled to ignore what is visible in broad

10

PREFACE

daylight. Looking first for the visible plan of these books, we find in the Discourses, as we shall see, several announcements by Machiavelli of batfling inadequacy or inaccuracy. The Discourses seems on the whole to be a shuffle of disconnected essays, while the plan of The Prince has been made more obvious by its subject matter to suit the requirements of the busy executive. Then to supplement or complete the announced plan, one must take into account little things that might seem to be mindless accidents and in other authors would be. Such formulas of introduction as “in the following chapter,” such favorite phrases as “everyone knows,” and above all the exact courtesies that Machiavelli extends to Livy must be noticed; and finally, one must not despise the use of quantitative methods, including the most mundane operation of counting. For in attending to “little things” we are taking a hint from Machiavelli. In Discourses III 33, Machiavelli praises a Roman consul for not despising the cose piccole by which the intentions of the gods are discerned, or rather interpreted and bent to suit human political designs; but he also praises Livy for putting these words in the mouth of the consul, and thus suggests that authors too can leave auspices of their meaning. Other instances of apparent mindlessness—an unexpected silence or a mis¬ take or contradiction, for example—must be considered for the meaning they might have, so as to be sure that Machiavelli’s blink is not a wink. Again, this consideration is not imposed by a certain method of interpretation but rather suggested by Machiavelli himself. Machiavelli remarks in Discourses II 10 that Livy indicates his opinion by failing to mention something when one would expect him to mention that thing; it is possible, then, for an author to contrive a pregnant silence and make it distinguishable from a doltish one. If Livy can do this, why not Machiavelli? A pregnant silence consists in an obvious answer to a suggested question that one must have the sense to ask oneself. Machiavelli also supplies a chapter in the Discourses (III 48) on manifest blunders. He says there that when an enemy makes a great error, one should believe that a deceit lies hidden underneath; in illustrating this maxim, he himself makes a manifest blunder by giving an example in which an enemy did not make a manifest blunder. Should one suspect that a deceit of Machiavelli’s might he hidden underneath this manifest blunder? Little things, pregnant silences, and manifest blunders lend themselves to a certain levity of treatment, even the gaiety that Nietzsche appreciated in Machiavelli’s writing.1 Not to appreciate Machiavelli’s humor is worse than insensitivity; it is a defect of scholarship. Perhaps no paragraph in The Prince and the Discourses can be fully understood until the reader has found something funny in it. This is not to say that Machiavelli’s true meaning is a joke; it is rather that Machiavelli is determined to laugh at everything. In these two books he keeps a straight face for the most part; and while enjoying himself with the 1. Friedrich Nietzsche, Beyond Good and Evil 28.

PREFACE

11

special sophistication that does not fear to appear naive, he imposes on the scholar the unacceptable risk of having to laugh first. One of the pleasures Machiavelli affords—indeed, appears to have anticipated—is that of laughing at the w ise men of our day who believe they, or we, are w iser than he. Machiavelli shows his grave face in his politics, but w ith his politics men are promised the capability of controlling so much of w hat was previously thought (or placed) beyond their control, that nothing truly grave remains to w hich meg must come in silence. Machiavelli sees grave things as ridiculous because they are manipulable by men, and yet grave because they answer human necessities. His promise and his irreverence can be recognized as the spirit of modernity in its early phases, w hen it w as fresh, bright, and eager. To see how far Maehiavelli’s intention extends, and to raise the question of his responsibility for modernity, one must learn to see how the control of things not previously or usually thought political is represented in his discussion of political things. As one learns to recognize and to marvel at these representations, the question of w hether Machiavelli was a phil osopher, sometimes asked by our philosophers, answers itself. In sum, it is agreed that the Machiavelli of vulgar Machiavellianism is not the true Machiavelli, but I shall try to show that the true Machiavelli is more Machiavellian, not less, than the vulgar Machiavelli. I learned this argument from Leo Strauss, and the know ing or w ary reader will have discerned long since that most of the foregoing could have been said in explanation or defense of Strauss’s Thoughts on Machiavelli. 2 Two objections to Strauss’s w ay of discov¬ ering Machiavelli’s intention can and have been made, and as they w ill also most likely be made to the present study, I shall state and answer them. First, the interpretation is ingenious, but the ingenuity w ill be ascribed to the interpreter, not to Machiavelli. And second, Machiavelli w as a bold w riter who was placed on the Index and persecuted w ith the evil reputation of Machiavellianism for his boldness, so it would have been superfluous for him to conceal what he did not scruple or fear to say aloud. If the interpreter’s ingenuity is merely his ow n, it ought to be possible to uncover it in the same way that the interpreter claims to have uncovered Machiavelli’s. Such discrepancies as those we shall see between Machiavelli’s text and the original in Livy should be detectable between the interpretation and the Machiavellian original. Such discrepancies are easy to find once one begins to look for them, and correspondingly difficult to conceal if one washes to do so. Anyone who thinks it possible to exercise his ingenuity w ith a consistent in¬ terpretation of an inconsistent text, and not be caught, should demonstrate that he can do it. The posture of dull honesty recoiling in shock and bew ilderment before Strauss’s diabolical cleverness is not sufficient to convince. To be sure, it is possible to overinterpret a text that does not bear the w eight of concentrated 2. See Harvey C. Mansfield, Jr., “Strauss’s Machiavelli,” Political Theory, 3 (1975), 372-384.

12

PREFACE

speculation, but it is also possible to underinterpret a text that is a treasure of beautiful and useful thoughts. Either mistake does an injustice to the author, but the latter is more damaging to the interpreter. Machiavelli is bold, but his boldness is always kept under control and muted. In Discourses 127, for instance, where the topic is knowing how to be altogether bad or altogether good, the example is an evil tyrant guilty of incest and par¬ ricide. When the tyrant had the chance to kill the pope with one stroke and enrich himself with booty (since with the pope were all the cardinals with all their delights), he did not know how or dare to do so. Even here Machiavelli’s boldness is limited. For what good would it do to kill one pope? Such an undertaking might show the priests how little anyone should be esteemed who liv es and rules as they do, but how would it be altogether good? Precisely where Machiavelli makes a bold remark, we see that he also makes a bolder insinua¬ tion, that is, he conceals a bolder remark. His boldness hides his boldness, for men are not ready to believe that a man who seems bold is bolder than he seems. To illustrate the dangers of advising a new enterprise, Machiavelli invents a story about Perseus, king of the Macedonians. After Perseus had been utterly defeated by the Roman army, and as he was fleeing with a few friends, one of them began to recount Perseus’ many mistakes that had been the cause of his ruin, at which Perseus turned on him and said: “Traitor! So you have put off telling me until now, when I have no further remedy.” And upon these words Perseus strangled him. Machiavelli gives us the moral: Thus that one bore the punishment for having been silent when he should have spoken and of having spoken when he should have been silent. Machiavelli, however, combines bold¬ ness and modesty in such a way that he knows how to be silent when he should speak and to speak when he should be silent. After this defense of a study in the nature of a commentary, the appropriate mode of proceeding may be briefly outlined. The fundamental rule is “no external reliance,” or in Machiavelli’s phrase (which is not quoted out of con¬ text), “one’s own arms.” Of course, “one’s own arms” include the arms of your opponent, which you can snatch from him and use against him; for by this means the disarmed can become armed. Or, since one becomes armed by means of the art of using arms, trying to understand Machiavelli is like wrestling with a teacher who demonstrates the holds as he throws you. One must therefore refrain from bringing any apparatus to the lesson. For example, I have not taken up the question of the dating of the Discourses because Machiavelli does not tell us that the precise date w hen he w rote them is needed for understanding them.3 In contrast to Strauss’s work, w hich had to be composed with greater re¬ straint because it w as w ritten out of greater strength, this study w ill follow 3. For further argument on the dating of the Discourses, see Harvey C. Mansfield, Jr., “Necessity in the Beginning of Cities,” in Anthony Farel, ed., The Political Calculus: Essays on Machiavelli s Philosophy (Toronto, 1972), pp. 101-108.

f

PREFACE

13

Machiavelli’s form, and, while joining his discourses, will attempt to make a w hole of each one. As a rule there will be no forward references, and many questions w ill be left undecided or apparently decided but actually open to later revision. There will be occasional, but short, summaries, to bring things to¬ gether w ithout distorting the form of Machiavelli’s book and w ithout consider¬ ing the many interesting questions to which his book gives rise, particularly as regards the later fortune of his conceptions. The marginal annotations arc keyed to Machiavelli’s book and chapter num¬ bers. The section titles on the contents page and in the text are my ow n. The translations are also my own. But I have written so that one can read the commentary w ithout reference to Machiavelli’s text, not to escape judgment, but for readability, hence with much paraphrasing. And because my paraphras¬ ing is often more literal than others’ translations, some awkwardness necessarily results. The referents of Machiavelli’s pronouns must often be guessed; and many puzzling changes from singular to plural, and back, w ill be encountered. Machiavelli also has a disarming practice of suddenly addressing the reader, or certain readers, as “you." 1 dw ell on detail because the greatest discoveries are to be made in the details. One must study the examples and learn Machiavelli’s vo¬ cabulary, which seems so casual because it is so untechnical; and one must make the presumption that no word is unnecessary or could be otherwise than it is. l'he Prince will be treated sparingly; the Discourses is a separate book, and besides, 1 believe that comparisons between them lead not to differences of doctrine but to the reasons w hy Machiavelli wrote two books that contain everything he knew . These reasons have been explained by Strauss. As regards the plan of the Discourses and Machiavelli’s use of Livy, 1 have used Strauss’s discoveries and not thought it necessary to repeat his arguments. Since my inter¬ pretation consists in large part of disclosing things Machiavelli considered pru¬ dent to conceal, I have often left it to the reader to find the point for a story, or a cap for the point. This study is “in the nature of” a commentary because it is in¬ complete according to my lights and knowledge. I do not think it is misleading. Harvey C. Mansfield, Jr. Cambridge, Massachusetts

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS Money being the sinew of w ar, I wish to acknowledge support from the Guggenheim Foundation and from the I lenry Salvatori Center for the Study of Individual Freedom. 1 also wish to thank the many people w ho have helped me w ith this book in friendship, kindness, or enmity. Those who bear the respon¬ sibility of correcting or changing the text of the manuscript are Robert Eden, Robert Faulkner, Susan Shell, and Nathan Tarcov. My debt to Leo Strauss is explained in the Preface. H. C. M.

ABBR EVIATIONS A.G.

D. Guicciardini I.F. Ix'fort Livy Opere

Opere politic he P. S.

w.

Niccolo Machiavclli, Arte della Guerra, Opere, II. Roman nu¬ merals in the footnotes refer to books in this work; arabic nu¬ merals in parentheses refer to pages of this edition. Niccolo Machiavclli, Discorsi sopra la pritna deca di Tito Livio. Francesco Guicciardini, Considerazioni interno ai Discorsi del Machiavclli. Bari, 1914. Niccolo Machiavclli, Istorie Florentine, Opere, VII. Claude Lcfort, Le travail de Voeuvre Machiavel. Baris, 1972. Titus Livius, Ah urhe condita. Niccolo Machiavclli, Opere. 8 vols. Milan: Feltrinelli Fditorc, 1960-1961. Volume 1 has the Discourses, edited by Sergio Bcrtelli. Niccolo Machiavclli, Opere politiche. Mario Puppo, ed. Flor¬ ence, 1969. Niccolo Machiavclli, II Principe, Opere, 1. \rabic numbers refer to chapters. Leo Strauss, Thoughts on Machiavclli. Glencoe, Ill., 1958. Leslie J. Walker, The Discourses of Niccolo Machiavclli. 2 vols. London, 1950; revised edition 1975, w ith introduction and ap¬ pendices by Cecil H. Clough.

MACH I WELLES NKW MODES AN D ORDERS

A Study of the Discourses on Livy

Machiavelli s Dedicatory Letter L

Machiavelli offers greetings to his two friends Buondelmonti and Rucellai, and begins his book with “I.” “I send you a present,” he says. Though it may not correspond to the obligations he has to them, it is without doubt the greatest that Niccolo Machiavelli could send. He has expressed in it as much as he knows and has learned from “a long practice and continual reading in worldly things.” “Worldly things” must be distinguished from otherworldly things if there are such; perhaps “worldly things” mean all human things or all things from a human point of view, but surely they comprise more than political things as they first appear to us.1 Accordingly worldly things must be learned by reading as well as through practice. Machiavelli takes it for granted that his friends would consider this knowledge his most valuable gift, even though his narra¬ tions may be poor and he may have deceived himself in his discussions. 1 le says he does not know who is under less obligation: he because he was forced to write what he would never have written for himself, or they if in w riting he has not satisfied them. Machiavelli’s book is not a free gift; it was required of him, and because it was required, his friends took responsibility for its adequacy and have no right to complain if disappointed. But if they are satisfied w ith it, they are obliged to him. Machiavelli warns his readers of many mistakes in narration and judgment, and yet allows that we could be satisfied nonetheless—perhaps all the more.2 Machiavelli’s friends are given two instructions: to accept this book as from a friend, considering more the intention of the giver than the quality of the gift (since it appears to have many mistakes); and to believe that if he has been deceived in many details he has not been mistaken in choosing them as ad¬ dressees of these Discourses, both out of gratitude for benefits received and because of his departure from the common usage of writers, who are in the habit {sogliono) of always addressing their works to some prince. Blinded by ambition 1. Cf. W., I 201. Felix Gilbert says in Yale Review, 48 (1959), 467-468, that cose del mondo had the meaning of “politics” in the sixteenth century. He w ishes to dismiss any sense of the religious question that might arise from the first sentence of D. II 5 or from the repeated use of the phrase by Savonarola in denouncing the savii del mondo who are wise in the ways of the world but not politicians in the usual sense (see D. Ill 30). When NM says that tutte le cose del mondo have a limit to their life (D. Ill 1, cf. Ill 43), Gilbert translates or paraphrases “everything on earth,’’ not “every¬ thing political”; Machiavelli and Guicciardini (Princeton, N.J., 1965), p. 192. See also P. 10, 25 (beg.), w here the phrase does not mean “politics” merely. It would be w rong to deny that “worldly” and “political” are connected—the French commander’s remark to the Florentines in D. I 38 that they know nothing of cose del mondo comes after a political mistake of theirs—but the connection is obscured w hen “worldly”is translated “political.” Cf. the exchange betw een the French cardinal and NM in P. 3. See Eugenio Garin, L'umanesimo italiano (Bari, 1952), pp. 185-186; S., pp. 17-18; I F. VII 6. 2. Cf. W., II 273, 3 11.

22

'

I) L

MACHI A VELLl’s DEDICATORY LETTER

and avarice these writers praise the prince for virtuous3 qualities when they should blame him from every censurable aspect. This suggestion would require a full twist in the “Mirror of Princes” genre, and we wonder how Machiavelli escaped this condemnation when he wrote The Prince.4 He says that to avoid the error of not blaming the blameable to the limit, he has chosen as addressees not those who are princes but those who deserve to be princes, not those who could load him with rank, honors, and riches but those who cannot but would like to. So Machiavelli’s friends forced him to write, but he chose his friends; by choos¬ ing them he chose the necessity they would impose on him arising from the need to be grateful for their benefits; his choice was prior to his necessity but in accord with it. Despite the mistakes in his book Machiavelli chose his friends well. Anyone can spot the reigning prince, but Machiavelli has unerringly found those, much less visible, who deserve to be princes; and the competence implied in this feat far outshines the mistakes to which he has openly confessed. We are not sur¬ prised that the test of worthiness in a prince is wishing to help Machiavelli, for Machiavelli deserves to be loaded with honors by those who deserve to be princes. He departs from the custom of writers in dedications only to the extent of addressing those who deserve to be princes (who are also his friends) rather than actual princes; so considering his “intention,” we find it political. He addresses “those” in the plural because in addressing a class of the deserving one must account for a rate of attrition in their achievement. Indeed one of Machiavelli’s friends died in 1519, and although he surely could have changed the dedication (as apparently he did for The Prince, which was fittingly dedi¬ cated to the ruling prince), he left it unchanged to a dead man.5 To explain why those deserving to be princes would wish to load him with honors, Machiavelli says that men who wish to judge correctly must esteem those who are liberal, not those who could be liberal, and likewise those that know how to govern a kingdom, not those who can govern it without knowing. And writers praise Hiero of Syracuse more when he was a private man than Perseus of Macedonia w hen he was king; for Hiero lacked nothing of being a prince but the principality and Perseus had no part of being a king except the kingdom. Evidently the case of being liberal is not parallel with that of know ing how' to govern a kingdom, as one cannot be esteemed liberal without liberal actions but one can be esteemed knowing without governing. Nor does knowing how to govern a kingdom encourage liberality, especially if knowing how to govern includes knowing how to gain a kingdom. If it does, then Hiero, having this know ledge, indeed lacked nothing of being a prince except the principality 3. I shall translate virtu as “virtue” so that the reader can see for himself whether any difference exists betw een his ow n understanding of virtue and NM’s. 4. S., pp. 15-24. NM begins the dedicatory letter of The Prince w ith Sogliono. 5. In the Art of War NM praises Cosimo Rucellai and records his death. The date of his death (1519) has been used as the terminus ad quern in the dating of the w riting of the Discourses, but perhaps it could serve only as a terminus a quo.

L

MACHIA VELLl’s DEDICATORY LETTER

(23) V

yT

which he soon got; and Perseus, lacking knowlege, barely held the kingdom which he soon lost. Machiavelli shifts attention from those deserving to he princes to those on their way to being princes, as if awakening the interest of the deserving and at the same time informing them that they have something to learn. To he deserving one must be knowing, and knowledge makes one a potential prince. Machiavelli begins the Discourses with an incitement of its addressees, the young men whom he has chosen as his friends; and the incite¬ ment is to tyranny since according to “the writers” I liero was a tyrant.6 As the incitement would be futile without the knowledge, Machiavelli teaches. He sends a present of political teaching, and so his liberality is that rare liberality of the wise which promotes the interests of others. It must be, then, that even though the teacher’s knowledge makes him a potential prince, his ambition is different or greater. Machiavelli asks his friends to enjoy the good or ill that they themselves wished for, and if they continue in the error of being pleased by his opinions (though Machiavelli made no error in choosing them to receive his opinions), he will not fail to supply the rest of the history as he promised them at the beginning. Phis may mean that the Discourses were incomplete at the time Machiavelli wrote his dedication, or are incomplete now (but see 111 49); but he does not say “at the beginning” of the dedication that he was sending only a part of the history, which if now complete, would probably no longer include interim communications, especially in so prominent a place.7 The only promise made at the beginning is the implied one to send the greatest gift of which Machiavelli is capable. As we have seen, this gift requires worthy recipients, those who are pleased w ith his opinions and not dismayed at his mistakes—not Guicciardini, for example. To such readers, properly impressed but not be¬ mused by his self-deprecation, Machiavelli promises to supply “the rest of the history” w hich is not in the narrations, judgments or opinions taken separately as they appear but in the intention as a whole. 1 le says “farewell” to his friends as convention prescribes because this is his last personal appearance not as an actor in his own enterprise. 6. As NM makes clear in D. II 2; see also P. 6, 13, 14. 7. In the dedicatory letter to the Florentine Histories NM acknowledges that he is publishing a work that is in a sense unfinished. See Harvey C. Mansfield, Jr., “Party and Sect in Machiavelli’s Florentine Histories," in Martin Fleisher, ed., Machiavelli and the Nature of Political Thought (New York, 1972), p. 224.

BOOK I Introduction The first proemium or preface introduces Book I, not the w hole work; there is another preface to Book II that differs pronouncedly from this one, but none to Book III, for w hich we no longer need one. We are thus given a sign in the two prefaces that Machiavelli’s intention develops and, accordingly, that progress in our understanding is expected. We would not need to progress if we did not resist change; we could understand everything “at one stroke.” But men resist political change as much when they imagine it from reading as w hen they see it in a practical attempt, and he who legislates through a book must calculate in the same w ay and at least as w ell as the direct legislator of law s. Calculation implies care, not caution alone; for w hen the change is profound, the legislator must be bold and must use caution to protect his bold design. Machiavelli’s two prefaces reflect this problem while reflecting on it, and the notable first paragraph of the first preface adumbrates it.1 1. In the first two editions (the Blado and the Giunta) and in the seventeenth century manuscript of the Discourses in the British Museum the first paragraph of the proemium does not appear. But it does appear in an autograph manuscript of NM's of the entire proemium, the only surviving autograph fragment of the Discourses, and the question is whether this fragment is provisional or definitive. Carlo Pincin has concluded that it is provisional, “La prefazione alia prima parte dei Discorsi," Atti dell'Accademia delle Scienze di Torino, 94 (1959-60), II, 506-51H, and “Le prefazioni e la dedicatoria dei Discorsi di Machiavelli,” Giornale storico della letteratura italiana, 143 (1966), 72-83. His argument, based solely on his interpretation of the texts, says that NM’s modesty in the first paragraph is psychologically different from his confidence at the end of 1 proemium and that the hope of finding rew ard w ith those w ho humanely consider the end of his labors is inconsistent w ith the dedication to two actual friends of his. In rebuttal one may observe that such differences of tone and inconsistencies abound in the Discourses, and the task of interpretation is not only to find them but to see if they are provisional or definitive, that NM’s modesty in the first paragraph is qualified by his declared intention to act sanza alcuno respetto, and that he expects to benefit everyone by instructing potential princes whom he will make his friends. Further, the phrase “the present education” in the truncated version is a likely substitution done out of real or pretended piety for the phrase “the present religion” in the autograph version. The autograph version show s many correc¬ tions; so if NM deleted the first paragraph, he rejected a polished as w ell as a splendid statement. In sum, it seems hard to excise the only portion of NM’s text known in autograph as the only considerable corruption of that text (see III 17). Pincin’s conclusion was anticipated w ith less sup¬ porting argument by Guido Mazzoni, “Sul testo dei Discorsi del Machiavelli,” Rendiconti dell’ Accademia Nazionale dei Lincei, Classe di Scienze Morali, 6th series, 9 (1933), 54, and by Plinio Carli, Le opere maggiori di Niccold Machiavelli (Florence, 1928), p. 120. Felix Gilbert asserted Pincin’s conclu¬ sion as undisputed truth, then tacitly abandoned it; Yale Review, 48 (1959), 467, and Machiavelli and Guicciardini, p. 158n 19.

26

I pr

BOOK I

r Although [he says in the very notable first sentence] by the envious nature of men it has always been no less dangerous to find new modes and orders [modi ed ordini nuovi] than to seek unknown waters and lands, since men are more ready to blame than to praise the actions of others, nonetheless, driven by that natural desire that has always been in me to do, without any respect, those things I believe will bring common benefit to everyone, I have decided to enter upon a way not yet trodden by anyone, which if it brings me trouble and difficulty, can also bring mereward by means of those who consider humanely the end [ilfine] of my laborsj This announcement alludesLto the explorations of Machiavelli’s day and suggests a comparison between the explorers and himself, from which we conclude that Machiavelli, while willing to accept reward for himself, is driven by a natural desire~tb~bnhg common benefiTtoTveryone.2 This must be done “nonetheless” and “without any respect,” two characteristic Machiavellian expressions. For every difficulty Machiavelli has a nondimanco, and for every authority he is sanza alcuno respetto. His choice of friends who have forced him to write this book is traced to his natural desire to bring common benefit to everyone, a desire he cannot consummate himself perhaps because of his poor genius, his little experience of present things, and his weak know ledge of an¬ cient things. In the Dedicatory Letter he had called his little experience “long practice” and his weak knowledge “continual reading.” Now he is looking for “someone” w ith more virtue, reasoning, and judgment, not the named friends of his dedication, to consider the end of his labors “humanely” (umanamente) and to satisfy his intention. He may also want him to consider the end “humanly,” suggesting that although his task may be too much for this man or for one man, it is not too much for man. Machiavelli then shifts to the honor accorded to antiquity in his times. Such honoring could be interpreted as an instance of human envy, since men do honor to themselves when they honor their ancestors; but in Machiavelli’s day, as we see with historians and he saw unaided, honoring the ancients to the extent of imitating them had a subversive effect on the established modes and orders, for a reason he will supply. He says, leaving aside, countless other examples, that a fragment of an ancient statue is bought at a high price to have it near oneself, to honor one’s house, and to have it imitated by those who delight in that art, who then strive with all industry to represent it in all their works; but the most virtuous works that histories show, done by kingdoms and ancient republics, by kings, captains, citizens, legislators, and others who labored for their country, have been rather admired than imitated, indeed avoided, so that of ancient virtue there remains no sign w hatever, for which Machiavelli cannot but marvel and grieve. He notes that when citizens have differences and men have sicknesses, they have recourse to ancient judgments and ancient remedies, for our civil laws are the judgments of ancient jurisconsults reduced to order, 2. Cf. Dante, Paradiso II 1-6.

Pr

INTRODUCTION

27

and our medicine is based on experiments tried by ancient physicians. Machiavelli passes over the situation in the other two faculties of the university, Theology and Philosophy, and asks w hy, if ancient law and medicine are imitable, politics is not. In ordering republics, maintaining states, governing king¬ doms, ordering militia and administering war, judging subjects and increasing empire, no prince or republic has recourse to ancient examples. Machiavelli w ill bring new' modes and orders by imitating the ancients, not in the way thatlaw and medicine are imitated, that is, in obedience to ancient precepts or ancient science, but in the wav that fragments of ancient statues are represented. He will make representations of ancient politicians that are already statues in an¬ cient histories, and bring them out of his house into public view for imitation of their “works” (operazioni). M achiavelli “believes” that the ancients are not imitated in politics not so much because of the “weakness into which the present religion has led the world,” or because of “that evil w hich an ambitious leisure has done to many Christian provinces and cities” as because we do not have “true knowledge of the histories” and in reading them, do not get that sense nor taste that flavor they have in them. This sentence is a beautiful example of boldness hedged with caution.3 One is given to think that to our detriment the ancients are not imitated because we do not read their histories wit la lively appreciation, and Machiavelli will repair the loss by retelling them w ith gusto. There are some in our day who act as if they do not think that Machiavelli amounts to more than this. They overlook the alternative reasons for not imitating the ancients which are “not so much” rejected as included in the main one. These reasons disclose for the first time, not merely an ancient excellence overlooked in the Renais¬ sance, but two fundamental ills, weakness and “ambitious leisure,” which are put down immediately and disrespectfully to the effect of Christianity. And w hy is “true knowledge of the histories” lacking? Machiavelli says that “count¬ less ones” reading them take pleasure in the accidents they contain, but jutTge imitation to be not only difficult but impossible, as if heaven, sun, elements, men had changed in motion, order, and power from what-ihcy-wcrc in an¬ tiquity. But of course under the influence of the present religion men do believe in effect that nature has changed by means of supernatural intervention; and holding that the world has been transformed by the coming of Christ, they do not believe that the ancients are imitable today. Then to imitate the ancients, Machiavelli is obliged to consider present things for the obstacle they constitute, and the imitation he recommends in changed circumstances must be new. The main reason for not imitating the ancients returns to the two alternative reasons. Wishing to draw men from this error, he concludes, he has judged it neces¬ sary to w rite on all those books of Titus Livy that have not been intercepted by the malignity of the times that which he, with knowledge of ancient and modern 3. S., pp. 176-177.

28 I pr

things (not so modest now!), will judge necessary for greater understanding of them, so that his readers can more easily obtain “that utility” for which one should seek knowledge of the historie^ The malignity of the times, if more malignant, could have made it quite impossible to imitate the ancients despite the fact that heaven, sun, and so forth, remained the same; Machiavelli w ill have to find a remedy for that. In draw ing men from error he will avoid their envy and overcome the malignity of the times. He will write on all Livy’s books he judges necessary, the first ten according to the title, and many more in deed. 4 But his end is the utility for which one seeks true knowledge of the histories, narnel\vthe rTew' modes and orders, not theTruiTk^wledge for itself. Although this enterprise is difficult, “nonetheless,” aided by those w ho have encouraged (iconfortato: compare forzato in the Dedicatory Letter) him to accept this burden, he believes he can carry it so that for another there will remain a brief walk to take it to its destination. So Machiavelli’s “intention” will not be taken to its “end,” only most of the w ay. “Another”—one of his readers—w ill consummate it. This is to say, as plainly as it could be said, that he will not reveal his full intention, but w ill leave it to be uncovered by the potential princes whom he addresses according to their competence.

1. I 1

BOOK I

The Building of Cities (I 1)

Machiavelli begins with beginnings, but in the past: “What have been univer¬ sally the beginnings of any city whatever, and what was that of Rome.” Those who read of Rome’s beginning, he says, of its lawgivers, and of how it was ordered, will not marvel that such virtue was maintained for centuries in that city, nor that from it arose the empire which that republic attained. From city to empire Rome is to be explained by its beginning, at which we are kept from marveling only by Machiavelli’s express injunction. For when we read of Rome’s beginning in Livy, we find that others have marveled at it and shown their wonder by discovering divine aid at Rome’s beginning and attributing divinity or divine lineage to its first lawgivers.1 It is surely noteworthy, then, that Machiavelli, who discusses Roman religion at length elsew here, says noth¬ ing of it here. He says he w ishes to discuss first Rome’s origin, the particular topic announced in the chapter heading; but to begin that discussion, he says (“I say”) that all cities are built either by men native to the place where they build or by foreigners. Thus we understand that he cannot go back to a first beginning before Rome’s w hen men were not divided into natives and foreigners. The first case (or chance: caso) of native beginnings occurs when dispersed inhabitants perceive that they do not live securely, and uniting for their defense, 4. S., pp. 88-89. 1. Polybius does not discuss Rome’s alleged divinity to explain its empire, but he does not begin at the first beginning; Histories I. 5. See Pasquale Villari, The Life and Times of Niccolo Machiavelli, Linda Villari, trans., 2 vols. (London, 1898), II, 96.

THE BUILDING OF CITIES

29

“moved either by themselves or by someone among them of greater authority,” they are constrained to live together in a “chosen” place which is more conven¬ ient and easier to defend. To be native to a place on this earth obviously does not ensure protection against an enemy, because even natives must move to a chosen place to build their cities, for example Athens and Venice. Athens was built under the authority of Theseus; Venice was built without any particular prince to order it but by many peoples seeking to flee the wars that erupted every day with the advent of new barbarians after the decline of the Roman empire.2 Things turned out successfully for the Venetians through the long leisure (ozio) afforded them by the site, and from this least little beginning Venice could come to its present greatness. But how lasting is that present greatness? In the perspective of two cities built before and after Rome, even the centuries during which so much virtue was maintained in Rome do not seem so impressive. Machiavelli has a longer-lasting building in mind. The second case or chance, when a city is built by foreign races, prompts a new distinction between cities built by free men and those built by men who depend on another. Examples of the latter are colonies sent out by a republic or a prince to relieve their lands of inhabitants or to defend a newly acquired country; of these the Roman people built many throughout its empire. Or they are built by a prince not to live in but for the sake of his glory, like the city of Alexandria by Alexander. Since these cities do not have a free origin, it rarely happens that they make great strides and can be numbered among the “heads” of kingdoms. Similar to these, Machiavelli says, was the building of Florence: whether built by soldiers of Sulla or “perchance” by inhabitants of the mountains of Fiesole, who, trusting in the long peace that was born in the world under Octavian, came down to live in the plain, Florence was built under the Roman empire. Florence “at its beginnings” could not make other advances than were conceded by the courtesy of the prince. It seems to have been built by no one’s intention, neither for the common good nor for glory, but with local initiative perchance by “foreigners” from Fiesole, and it w as capable of existing as a colony under the protection of a prince—for the glory of a prince can be a protection to others. Machiavelli implies that Florence learned to make advances regardless of the courtesy of the prince, perhaps regardless of the one who w as born in the “long peace that w as born in the world under Octavian.”3 With “free builders of cities,” how ever, the beginning determines the fortune of the city. Machiavelli says that builders are free when some peoples, either under a prince or by themselves, are constrained by disease, hunger, or war to abandon their native country and seek a new seat; these builders either inhabit 2. P. 6, 26; I.F. I 3, 29. 3. Guicciardini’s criticism that a colony need not be dependent on its mother country would be pertinent if NM were not thinking of man’s dependence on God. Cf. also Plato’s Laws 678c, 681e-682c; the “long peace” protecting Florence substitutes for the poets’ tales, which according to the Athenian stranger make men forgetful of catastrophe and willing to live in the plain.

a

BOOK I

cities they find in countries they acquire, as Moses, or they build anew, as Aeneas. In this case (or chance) one can know the virtue of the builder and the fortune of the building (edificato), for the latter is more or less marvelous as “he who was the beginning of it” was more or less virtuous. Thus the forces that constrain peoples to leave their native countries also provide the opportunity for the builder to show his virtue, if by chance there is a builder with virtue. At the beginning of this discourse, Machiavelli—“he who was the beginning of it”— said that those who read of the beginning of the city of Rome will not marvel that so much virtue has been maintained for so many centuries in that city; now we are required to marvel at the fortune of what was built to the extent of the virtue of the builder, when both are known. To understand this puzzle it is necessary to take account of what is being built before the readers eyes, for Machiavelli has just told us in the preface that he himself is a legislator of new modes and orders. The city such a legislator builds reveals the virtue of the builder much more surely than an ordinary city because its fortune is more fully under his control. We assume that “fortune” refers to the city after its begin¬ ning, as it can be known from our reading. We may even surmise that Machiavelli has a plan for the later history of his city after it is built. Machiavelli indicates the connection, and the difference, between his marvelous virtue and the virtue of those who will maintain it by using the Latinate phrase latori di leggi rather than legislatori for “lawgivers” here.4 “Bearers of laws” make possible the work of legislators by showing them the beginning or principle (principio) of legislation. Unlike Moses, Machiavelli does not bear his laws from above.5 Now the virtue of “him who has been the beginning of it” is known in two ways: the choice of site and the ordering of laws. The choice of site, as we see from Machiavelli’s explanation, underlies the ordering of laws. He says that because men work either by necessity or by choice, and because “one sees” greater virtue where choice has less authority, one should consider whether it is better to choose sterile places for the building (or “edification”) of cities, where men have less leisure and less cause for discords. This choice would be wiser and more useful if men were content to live off their own (del loro) and did not wish to seek to master others, but since they cannot secure themselves without power, it is necessary to avoid such sterility and to settle in very fertile places. There men can expand because of the richness of the site, and both defend themselves and crush anyone who would oppose their greatness. As for the leisure or laziness that this site brings, one should order that the laws constrain the city to such necessities as the site does not, and imitate those who have been wise and have lived in very fertile countries apt to produce lazy men unfit for any virtuous exercise. Those who have been wise have laid a necessity to exercise on those who had to be soldiers such that they have become better soldiers there than in countries that are naturally harsh and sterile. Such legis4. Cf. D, I pr., 42; II 1. Aristotle, Politics 1286a 23. 5. P. 6, 26.

THE BUILDING OF CITIES

31

lators must legislate against the natural attractions of their “countries” (paesi) or perhaps of their own poetry. Machiavelli here touches on a topic of classical political philosophy, the legis¬ lator’s choice of site.6 In classical political philosophy the most unlikely possibil¬ ity that the legislator might choose his site is discussed in order to show how much the choice of legislation owes to gifts of chance or nature, to suggest the limits to human freedom, and thus to hint at the necessary criminality of every human beginning. Machiavelli simply ignores the last point, that since the number of choice, “very fertile” sites is limited, every beginning of a new city presupposes that the former inhabitants have been expelled. Contrary to his usual theme, he seems to assume that the best sites have been left empty and are available for immediate, unhampered occupancy. He does not tell us here, as he did in The Prince and Florentine Histories, of the travail that tested the virtue of Theseus and Moses, nor of the miseries in which Venice and Florence were liorn.7 He argues that free men need a virtuous builder who chooses not a middle between sloth and poverty, as recommended by the classical w riters, but a combination of both extremes. The builder should take everything he can get from Cod, nature, and fortune, and then himself create the necessities that external forces ordinarily impose on men.8 Instead ot blaming necessity for the limits to human (and hence political) choice, Machiavelli traces lx»th choice of site and ordering of laws to an apparently unnecessary human w ish to seek to master others.9 If we compare this w ish with original sin, we see that he advises men to choose, because of their original sin, both the Garden of Kden and the divine punishment of living under a government of laws w hich was the conse¬ quence of the Fall. When men do this, they can live under necessity and yet be free. Thus Machiavelli avoids giving the political lesson that could be shown in the conflict of choice and necessity. Instead he implies that they can be reconciled in the building of a city, or rather, in the training of an army. Machiavelli’s city w ill generate his army, and his building will provide its own protection; so his choice is fully compatible with his necessity, and his natural desire to bring what he believes to be common benefit to everyone coincides w ith the human w ish to seek to master others. Such a combination of choice and necessity is so far from mythical or imaginary that Machiavelli finds it in Egypt, whose laws nurtured very excellent men; indeed if their names w ere not lost in antiquity, we would see that they merit more praise than Alexander the Great.10 6. Plato, Laws 704tl-705c; Aristotle, Politics 1326b 27-1327b 18, 1330a 34-1330b 18; Cicero, De republica 11. 3. 5-5. 10; Thomas Aquinas, De regno II. 5-6. 7. P. 6, 26; I.F. I 5, 29; 11 1, 2. 8. Lanfranco Mossini, Necessita e legge nell' opera del Machiavelli (Milan, 1962), pp. 70, 260; Kurt Kluxen, Der Begriff der Necessita in Denken Machiavellis (Bensberg, 1949), pp. 31, 68-71. 9. Cf. Harvey C. Mansfield, Jr., “Necessity in the Beginnings of Cities,” in Anthony Parel, ed., The Political Calculus: Essays in Machiavelli's Philosophy (Toronto, 1972), p. 117, in some things super¬ seded here. 10. Cf. Aristotle, Politics 1329b 25-35.

32 I 1

BOOK I

Machiavelli also mentions the kingdom of the Sultan and the order and army of the Mamelukes in modern Egypt before they were destroyed by the Grand Turk, and he praises the exercises prescribed for their soldiers. After this comment on his predecessors, Machiavelli tells a story about Ale¬ xander the Great. When Alexander wished to build a city for his glory, a certain Deinocrates, an architect, came to him with a proposal to build it on Mount Athos in such a way as to give it a human form. Their city would be marvelous and rare, and worthy of his (Alexander’s or Deinocrates’?) greatness, But, hav¬ ing asked what the inhabitants would live on, and receiving the reply that the architect had not thought of it, Alexander laughed; and abandoning that mountain, he built Alexandria where the inhabitants would stay willingly be¬ cause the country was rich and the sea and Nile convenient. Alexander built for his own glory and therefore for the common good. He also built for the common good and therefore for his own glory.11 The mention of Alexander for the third time in this chapter makes us think of the builder (as distinguished from ar¬ chitect) who was Machiavelli’s chief rival.12 In conclusion, Machiavelli disregards his distinction between native and for¬ eign beginnings. He says that whoever examines the building of Rome may take the foreigner Aeneas for its first ‘ progenitor” or the native Romulus, but either way he will see that Rome had a free beginning “without depending on any¬ one.” Of course Rome would have to depend on the virtue of its builder, but Machiavelli means that it does not matter whether he is a native or a foreigner if he does not depend on anyone. If he is concerned with beginnings universally, he cannot be a native everywhere; and yet he might be a builder of free cities everywhere. If he is an author, it does not matter whether he writes his own book or comments on another’s. At this point it is appropriate for Machiavelli to say how he has built his book. Rome’s deeds, celebrated by Titus Livy, were done by public or private counsel either inside or outside the city; “I will begin,” Machiavelli asserts for himself (because he does not merely celebrate Rome’s deeds) with things happening inside and by public counsel, adding everything that depended on them. “This first book” is identified as the first part.

2.

The Ordering of Regimes (I 2-8)

In I 1, Machiavelli presents the alternative of choice and necessity to the city builder, and advises him to overcome it by choosing in accordance w ith antici¬ pated necessity. He should choose a fertile site for the sake of his own and his city’s greatness and then order the laws to apply the w holesome constraints of necessity. In the section comprising chapters I 2-8 Machiavelli takes up this 11. Carlo Pincin, “Osservazioni sui Discorsi di Machiavelli,” in A. Molho and J. Tedeschi, eds., Renaissance Studies in Honor of Hans Baron (Florence, 1971), pp. 401 -M-02. 12. S., pp. 61, 311 n 12. Alexander occurs twenty-six times in D., nine times in P., thirteen times in P. and D. as “Alexander the Great”; cf. Ill 49 end. His father Philip of Macedon occurs thirteen times in D., four times in P. On Alexander see especially D. Ill 13, and on Philip D. I 26.

THE ORDERING OF REGIMES

55

ordering and considers how it is possible. We see that the legislator cannot assume that he can “choose” or control necessity in the ordering of his regime. Necessities present themselves in “accidents” of which the causes may be hid¬ den; thus the means of controlling them are unrecognized, and men surrender imprudently to fate or providence. This error is not merely vulgar, as can be seen in the case of the most impressive political accidents, in the discords between the people and the nobles. For although legislators and political scien¬ tists have attempted to find the causes of disorder and hence of order, they have been content, in their “public counsel” on “inside things,” with a solution that depends on chance: the mixed regime based on the cycle of regimes. Machiavelli has a plan to be revealed gradually for a mixed state that will effect a permanent improvement in human affairs. Observance of superficial facts is always helpful when interpreting Machiavelli, and we can see evidence for a new viewpoint in I 2 merely in the number of times certain words are used. In I 1 he used “build” in all its variants twenty-one times, and “order” six times; in I 2 he uses “order” thirty-three times and “build” not at all. Also he says “accident” six times in I 2 and not once in 1 1. The title of I 2, like that of I 1, asks a general question and a question about Rome: How many kinds of republics are there and w hich w as the Roman republic? To begin, Machiavelli says, “I w ish” to put aside reasoning on cities that had their beginning under someone else; he will speak of those that had a beginning “far from all external slavery,” that immediately governed themselves by their own w ill. Since he soon mentions Florence, a city said in I 1 to have lacked a free origin, and since he immediately discusses cities ordered under legislators, we may suppose that he means he w ill speak of cities w hose begin¬ ning or principle {principio) is human. That is, he will discuss classical political science, as in fact he does, rather than ChristiaiTpolitical science based on divine lawG This is the first of thirteen chapters in the Discourses that begin with a first person pronoun, and thirteen is the number that Machiavelli associates with himself or his enterprise.1 Cities governed by their ow n will have diverse laws and orders as they have had diverse beginnings.2 Some have been given laws “by one alone” and “at one stroke,” the law s given by Lycurgus to the Spartans, for example; others have received them by chance, at many times, and through accidents, as did Rome. That republic can be called “happy,” Machiavelli says, hinting that it can also be called “lucky,” from which has emerged (sortisce) “one man” so prudent that his laws do not need to be corrected, as Sparta observed its laws for eight hundred years without corrupting them and without any dangerous tumult. If Machiavelli had not specified one man so prudent, he could have been speaking of a divine beginning at one stroke. That city, he continues, is somewhat 1. S., p. 312n22. Those w ho do not believe that NM used numerology' to tell us w hat he means may avert their eyes from these occasional additions, w hich w ill ordinarily be relegated to footnotes. 2. Cf. Polybius, Histories VI 10. 13.

34

BOOK I

unhappy which has not “chanced upon” a prudent orderer,3 and must reorder itself. Of such cities, the more unhappy are the further from order, and the furthest is altogether outside the direct road (see I pr., end) which could lead to the “perfect and true end.” These cities will find it almost impossible (only “almost”) to adjust themselves by some accident, but others without perfect order yet with a good beginning, which is apt to become better, can become perfect by the occurrence of accidents. Accidents, it appears, can not only help but make perfect, given a good beginning. Perfectible laws, it is true, are never ordered without danger, because most men never agree to a new law regarding a new order in the city if a necessity does not show that it needs to be done, and this necessity cannot come without danger. Machiavelli gives as example the republic of Florence, which was “reor¬ dered by the accident of Arezzo in 1502 and disordered by that of Prato in 1512.” Suppose that such “accidents” bring new necessities that require a new law and a new order: what happens then to laws legislated at one stroke? Indeed, these were the foreign accidents that began and ended the tenure of Piero Soderini, Machiavelli’s employer, as gonfalonier for life in the Florentine republic. They suggest the difficulty iMachiavelli faces in legislating his new modes and orders at one stroke, as he must, yet with a view to the accidents that will displace him and his influence. That Machiavelli has his own case in mind is confirmed by his use of dates, for he gives dates very sparingly in the Dis¬ courses, twenty-six in sum, and all in his own lifetime. When he turns next to discuss the orders in Rome, for which he describes the cycle of three or six regimes, we can guess that from his own standpoint he has already discussed the first topic of the chapter, how many kinds or appearances {spezie) of republics there are. There are two: those legislated at one stroke and those legislated by accidents; he will combine them by giving his legislation the appearance of accidental perfection. To discuss Rome’s orders and the accidents that led it to its perfection, Machiavelli tells us of two classifications of “states” made by those who have written about republics. Some say there are three states of which an orderer might use one; others, “wiser according to the opinion of many” but perhaps not of Machiavelli, count six “reasons” of government, three very bad and three others good in themselves but so easily corruptible that they too become perni¬ cious. The three bad ones depend on the good, and each is similar to the one near it, so that they easily leap from one to the other. If an orderer used one of the three, his order would last but a short time on account of the similarity of the virtue and the vice in this case. Machiavelli seems to disagree with the many who count six states, that is, with the tradition of classical political science; he is more impressed with the similarity of principality and tyranny, aristocracy and oligarchy, democracy and license—in the number who rule—than with the 3. Cf. Xenophon, Cyropaideia II 3. 4.

THE ORDERING OE REGIMES

35

“reasons” that might distinguish them from each other.4 But nevertheless he proceeds with a summary of the cycle of regimes to be found in classical political science, which requires six regimes and features the differences between good regimes and bad. He has in mind a mixed regime to cure the defects of the simple regimes, as in classical political science, but a different one to be achieved through accidents.5 In his description of the cycle Machiavelli does not merely base his argument on that of previous writers, but follows Polybius so closely that commentators have questioned how he could have read Polybius in translation, assuming that he could not read Greek.6 On examination, however, Machiavelli appears to follow Polybius’ closely so that the differences w ill become obvious, as it is his practice (when not commenting on passages in Livy) to use identifiable sources that disclose significant differences with the original.7 Considering the pattern of his departures from Polybius, one should question how he could have found a sufficiently literal translation, assuming that he could not read Greek. It re¬ mains significant that he does not mention Polybius either here or anyw here in the Discourses. He seems to have chosen Polybius for representative of classical political science,8 because Livy does not discuss the cycle or the regime, and Plato and Aristotle do not discuss Rome, the exemplar of accidental perfection. Machiavelli must also have found it convenient that Polybius does not ascribe Rome’s beginning to the gods. But whereas Machiavelli says that “these var¬ iations of government” arose among men by chance, Polybius says emphatically and repeatedly that they arose by nature.9 10 We can see the reason for this profound difference in Machiavelli’s next words: “In the beginning of the world,” inhabitants were few and lived dispersed like beasts, l hat the world has a beginning is Christian doctrine, of course, quite the contrary of Polybius’ notion that human civilization begins afresh after periodic cataclysms^,11 Indeed the Christian doctrine of a unique creation is simply contradictory to the notion of cycle in human affairs, and instead requires a human history of attempting to 4. Cf. Polybius, VI 4. 1-6. 5. Thus NM docs not mention the mixed regime at this point as does Polybius, VI 3. 7-8. 6. J. H. Hexter, “Seyssel, Machiavelli and Polybius VI: The Mystery of the Missing Transla¬ tion,” Studies in the Renaissance, 3 (1956), 75-96. J. 11. Whitfield, Discourses on Machiavelli (Cambridge, 1969), pp. 191-198. 7. Gennaro Sasso has made a careful comparison between NM and Polybius, pointing out the similarities and the more important differences, and concluding that w hat is interesting is not that NM used Polybius, but how. My comparison differs from his in considering Polybius as representa¬ tive of classical political science, which N.\l must oppose and defeat. Gennaro Sasso, Studi su Machiavelli (Naples, 1967), chaps. 4, 5; p. 280. Also, Sasso, Niccold Machiavelli: Storia del suopensiero politico (Naples, 1958), pp. 306-315.1 w ish to acknow'ledge the help of Nathan Tarcov in making the following comparison of Polybius and N.\l. 8. In the very text from w hich NM has borrowed, Polybius states his debt to Plato, VI 5. 1-3; 5. S., p. 31 In 14. See Lefort, p. 471. 9. Polybius, VI 4. 7-12. Sasso, Studi, p. 199; Storia, p. 310; S., p. 222. Cf. Robert I). Cumming, Human Nature and History, 2 vols. (Chicago, 1969), I 96, 136. 10. Polybius, VI 5.

36 I 2

BOOK I

hold or recover the perfect beginning. Yet Machiavelli, in disagreement with Christian doctrine, obviously denies that men had a perfect beginning. Ij might seem, then, that the non-Christian classical notion of axycle of civilization rising and falling by nature would be sufficiently anti-Christian to gain Machiayelli’s adherence; but it was not. 1 o say that governments aroseby chance is to deny that nature can be a guide for men and to reduce nature to chance. All human arrangements, whether well or ill directed, must be ascribed to human doing in accordance with necessity or against change. Such a conception might have counselecTresignation in the manner of the ancient materialists if Machiavelli had not supposed that necessity could be applied against itself (I 1). Thus for him to say that governments arose by chance gives more scope to human asser¬ tiveness and demands more of its effort against the “weakness into which the present religion has led the world.” It is true that Polybius' conception of nature as underlying human arrangements is as much opposed to Christian doctrine .as is Machiavelli’s conception of chance, but Machiavelli found that the nature that limits God also limits man in opposing God. He therefore dismissed nature from his account of the cycle and accepted the consequences. , The consequences, first, are that men are said to have lived dispersed like beasts instead of together like beasts, as Polybius said, so that, for Machiavelli, government must overcome the natural and bestial in man. Next, the first government is said to have been a monarchy of one “who was more robust and of greater heart” rather than Polybius’ one “who exceeds in bodily strength and in daring of soul.”11 If Machiavelli had been hastily copying chunks of Polybius into his text at this point, he might inadvertently have broken the rule which he kept with quasi-religious devotion never to mention the soul in the Discourses (or The Prince). He says that the first government was calculated for self-defense; Polybius says it derived from natural weakness, expressed in fear. Both give a realistic account of the origin of justice, but again they differ. Both see justice as conceived from the perception of ingratitude to a benefactor, when men imagine themselves in the situation of the outraged benefactor. Machiavelli, however, omits Polybius’ reference to the ingratitude of children as disappointing an expectation whose source is natural, and he omits the willingness of some men to defend others from beasts, from which the noble is conceived. Machiavelli does not mention the noble as something distinct from the just: the knowledge oj^honest and good things” is restated simply as knowledge of justice and then associated with» prudtmcGa's qualities of the elected prince. Apparently when justice is concerVecTbyTIiance calculation, there is no basis for something higher than justice. Machiavelli omits a Polybian statement about the distinctiveness of human reason,12 perhaps the basis for the nobility of defending other men against beasts; and he emphasizes the power of punishments to form opinion where Polybius emphasizes the power of opinion as distinct from punish11. Ibid., VI 5. 6-7. 12. Ibid., VI 6. 4.

THE ORDERING OF REGIMES

37

ments.13 Thus Polybius gives a realistic account of the “first notion” of justice,14 implying a higher and more complete understanding, but Machiavelli allows the realistic origin of justice to determine “the knowledge of justice” (italics added). The first government degenerates as soon as it becomes hereditary rather than elective, for Machiavelli ignores Polybius’ analysis by which the very success of this prince in getting wealth and providing security liberates the appetites of his successors.15 By their conduct they make themselves hated, Polybius says, and feared, Machiavelli adds; for he wants to indicate that tyranny is essentially a defensive reaction. Thus arose conspiracies against the prince carried out by those who excelled in nobility, and Machiavelli adds, in riches—so that wealth instead of being a cause of tyranny becomes a cause of escaping tyranny. The multitude follow these “powerful ones” and arm themselves against the prince; when he is destroyed (Machiavelli’s addition), the multitude obey them as liberators. These powerful men, hating the “name” (Polybius says “form”) lfi of a single head, took up the government themselves, and at the beginning gov¬ erned with regard to the past tyranny by laws of their own making, placing all their advantage in the common utility. Then their sons, who were ignorant of the variations of fortune, had never experienced evil, and w ere not content with civil equality, turned to avarice, ambition, and “usurping women” and caused an aristocracy to become an oligarchy. Machiavelli changes Polybius' “violating women” and omits “raping boys”17 because it is not rape but usurpation that brings dow n governments. “Civil equality,” a Polybian phrase, is in Machiavel¬ li’s use the result of a sobering memory of fallen tyranny, not of desire to further the common good. Democracy is brought on when the multitude make a minister of someone who designs to harm the oligarchs in some way (Polybius: someone who has the daring to oppose them),18 and w ith memories of injuries from a prince still fresh, they establish a popular state w ithout any authority for the prince or the powerful few. This unmixed popular state lasts a while because “all states in the beginning have some reverence” (including the bad ones), but in the next gener¬ ation it descends to license, in which neither private nor public men fear each other and each lives as he pleases. Again Machiavelli omits Polybius’ remarks on the corrupting influence of wealth, and again he notes the influence of fear, adding a remark on the absence of it.19 But the very absence of fear produces a constraint of necessity; so “either by the suggestion of some good man or to avoid such licence” they return again to principality, which from one degree to the next, comes back toward license “in the ways and for the causes given.” We 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19.

Ibid., Ibid., Ibid., Ibid., Ibid., Ibid., Ibid.,

VI VI VI VI VI VI VI

6. 7. 7. 8. 8. 9. 9.

11. 1. 4-7. 1; cf. VI 3. 10-11. 5. 1. 5-7.

38 I 2

BOOK I

see that corruption comes to the democrats, as to the aristocrats and also the prince, when the generation that ordered the laws is gone. Maehiavelli leaves the implication that men govern effectively by making laws for themselves which cause them to fear each other and that government degenerates as men continue to live under laws made by others which do not raise fears toward human beings of their own generation. This is the cycle, Maehiavelli says, in which all republics revolve as they “are governed and govern themselves.” But he adds a statement not to be found in Polybius20 which casts doubt on the very notion of a cycle. He says that republics rarely return to the same government, because none can have so much life as to remain on its feet after passing through so many changes. Such a republic, since it always lacks counsel and forces, would soon become the subject of a neighboring state better ordered than it; and only if this did not happen would a republic revolve “for an infinite time” in these governments. Thus Maehiavelli suddenly introduces foreign policy, absent from the discus¬ sion so far, as the decisive consideration. The better ordered republic is simply the one that conquers its neighbor revolving in the cycle, and Maehiavelli now says for himself (“I say”), no longer speaking through other writers, that “all the given modes” are pestiferous and a mixed regime is required. Not until foreign policy has been seen to override and determine domestic policy is Maehiavelli ready to present a domestic policy that will avoid “this defect,” that is, the cycle itself. There is not one cycle, however, but two. We should now note that Polybius and Maehiavelli have mixed two cycles, the cycle of regimes and the cycle of civilization, which are distinct and separable.21 The cycle of regimes assumes that the city is self-sufficient, that it turns by self-motion through corruption and improvement in its ruling class, that this ruling class deserves moral praise or blame for its actions; it concludes that domestic policy is therefore primary and that human beings are thereby responsible for their own affairs. But the cycle of civilization has a very different, apparently contradictory tendency. It tells men that civilization itself will be interrupted by natural cataclysms and will have to be regenerated; it reminds men of their nonhuman surroundings, of the greater power of extrahuman forces, and thus of the fragility of human order. Yet in classical political science the cycle of civilization can be seen to support the notion of human responsibility paradoxically by the very fragility of human order, for the fact that all human things come and go can be used to teach men not to judge other men by their power, nor their actions by the consequences, nor their governments by durability. Some standard of worth above mere force is suggested by the weakness of man, and nature’s cataclysms can be understood as support for human responsibility not only because they do 20. Ibid., VI 9. 10-14. 21. Plato, Laws 681c-d; Republic 540e-541a; Statesman 271 e —272b; Aristotle, Politics 1316a 15-22; On Philosophy 8.

THE ORDERING OE REGIMES

39

not destroy man completely hut also because they do override all human force and thereby allow human worth to be asserted. Machiavelli refused this equivocal support from nature for human actions. As we recall from I 1, he has promised to supply in Book 1 “public counsel” on things occurring inside the city. Public counsel on domestic policy is precisely what is assumed to be sufficient by classical political science in the cycle of regimes, for each regime lives or dies by how well it is advised in its own affairs, in which public and domestic policy are identical. Machiavelli indicates by the plan of the Discourses and by his statement here of the primacy of foreign policy that public counsel on domestic policy, the “reasons” of the six states, is not sufficient. Public counsel on domestic policy must be directed to foreign policy—which turns out to mean that public counsel must be supplemented or supplanted by private counsel to individuals and parties. An active foreign policy, we may also say provisionally, is Machiavelli’s substitute for accepting the cycle of civilization. Both Machiavelli and Polybius prescribe a mix of regimes or states to over¬ come the cycle, but whereas Polybius considers this solution valid only for the cycle of regimes, 22 Machiavelli implies something more lasting when at the end of the chapter he calls Rome a “perfect republic.” Yet at this point, having called “all the given modes. . . pestiferous,”23 meaning all six^fie says that those who prudently order laws have chosen a mode in which “all participate because they judged it more firm and stablepThen he names the three best states and says that one guards the other. Thus Machiavelli’s mixed state does not mix virtues for the sake of justice24 but mixes modes in which the difference between vice and virtue is subtly but unmistakably ignored, for the sake of firmness and stability by means of mutual “guarding.’^He praises Lycurgus for ordering his laws to make a state that lasted more than eight hundred years, with highest glory (laude) for him and quiet for the city. Polybius says that Lycurgus pre¬ served liberty in Sparta longer than anywhere known to us, anti makes no mention of Lycurgus’ glory concomitant with Sparta’s “quiet.” Machiavelli sets a longer term on Sparta’s “quiet” than did Polybius (anti Thucydides), but also a shorter term on Lycurgus’ glory, if it depends on the durability of his laws. As Walker notes, their life of more than eight hundred years would have come to an end when Sparta became subject to Rome under Augustus:25 or did its quiet truly begin then? Polybius now contrasts Lycurgus’ reasoned foresight of how things occur naturally with the Romans, who arrived at their mixed regime not through reason but through adversity.26 In drawing this comparison, as we have seen, 22. 13-14 23. 24. 25. 26.

Note the substitution of “change backward” and “change to the opposite” in Polybius, VI 9. for “end” in VI 4. 12; see also XXIX 21 and XXXVIII 21. Cf. Polybius, VI 10. 3. Cf. Polybius, VI 10. 6-12. W., II 6; T hucydides, I 18. Polybius, VI 10. 12-14.

40 I 2

BOOK I

Machiavelli makes it between legislation at one stroke and accidental perfection, but before coming to Rome he takes up Solon. Solon ordered a popular state in Athens which had so short a life that Solon saw the tyranny of Pisistratus born before he died. Above, Machiavelli had said that the three good regimes have a short life: long life for a state is longer than the life of its legislator, as with Lycurgus’ state. Machiavelli remarks that Solon’s orders were taken up again forty years later, but they were kept up for no more than a hundred years, and although Athens made many constitutions to correct Solon’s failure to repress the insolence of the great and the license of the “universality” (as Machiavelli now calls the multitude), the power of the principality and that of the aristocrats were not mixed in them and Athens lived but a “very short time” compared to Sparta. Machiavelli seems to overlook the fact that Lycurgus’ laws have had their longest life in the writings of Athenians. Yet Solon’s experience prepares for Rome by showing how changes of regime do not necessarily follow the cycle and by suggesting that a legislator’s orders may be revived after his death despite their discouraging abandonment in his lifetime. “But let us come to Rome,” Machiavelli invites us; for Rome did not have a Lycurgus, yet so many accidents occurred in her through the disunion between the plebs and the Senate that what was not done by an orderer (or one orderer) was done by chance.27 This means that what was done by chance could have been done by one orderer with understanding of that disunion; but what would knowledge of the cycle contribute? Machiavelli says that if Rome did not draw the first fortune, Tt ITrewThL second. Although the kings intended to found a kingdom, not a republic, their laws conformed to free life; and so when they lost power, “through the causes and modes discussed,” those who expelled them immediately installed two consuls in place of the king. The third, popular element was added when the Roman nobility became insolent “for the causes that will be told below,” and the people rose up against it; the nobility, so as not to lose everything, conceded the people its share. After the creation of the tribunes of the plebs, the republic was more stabilized, and although it passed from the government of kings, to aristocrats, to people, “through the same degrees and through the same causes as were discussed above,” yet it remained mixed and made a perfect republic. We note three references to causes, none to accidents; for the Roman republic became perfect through a SuecesMorTof de¬ grees or stages, at each of which men acted prudently for their own interests, rather than with blind selfishness: the kings making laws for liberty; the aristo¬ crats not hating the name of king so much that they destroyed the institution, and also conceding a share of power to the people. The cycle now appears not as a circle of good and bad but as the way by which prudent men can come to perfection without intending it from the first. But nothing is said of corruption in the people as the cycle requires, and the insolence of the nobility will be 27. Cf. Polybius, VI 9. 13.

THE ORDERING OF REGIMES

41

explained below; so the disunion between the plebs and the Senate will be discussed in the two next chapters without reference to the cycle of “states,” which now disappears from the Discourses.28 In the next chapter the “accidents” of disunion announced in the title turn out to have a “hidden cause.” According to the title, accidents caused the tribunes of the plebs to be created and made the republic more perfect, but Machiavelli begins by referring to the legislator’s presumption that all men are wicked. More precisely, it is the presumption necessary to “whoever disposes a republic and orders the laws in it”—a distinction that looks forward to the distinction to come between custom and law. So stated, the presumption has nothing shocking in it, for it merely says that a legislator in making a law for all assumes all men may be wicked; and Machiavelli is able to begin with the authority of “all those who reason on civil life.” But he immediately makes it the extreme presumption of a suspicious legislator who cannot believe men are law-abiding: if men are not wicked, it is for a hidden cause29 which for lack of experience of the contrary is unknown. But time will discover it, Machiavelli says, as they say time is the father of every truth.30 If applied to the cycle, this presumption would imply that in the good states the malignity of the bad states is not absent but hidden, or that the good states do not in fact exist.31 The implication is w rapped up in a sentiment which has the sound but not the meaning of reverent and obedient piety waiting for the working of God’s providence. Thus Machiavelli introduces the disunion that led to the creation of the tribunes. After the Tarquins were expelled, he says, there appeared a “very great union” between the plebs and the Senate. It seemed that the nobles had put aside their pride and taken on a “popular spirit.” This deceit remained concealed and its cause was unseen as long as the Tarquins lived, because the nobles feared that if they did not behave humanely to the plebs, it would not be their ally. But as soon as the Tarquins were dead, the nobles began to spit out the venom against the plebs which they had held in their breasts and harmed it in every w ay they could. Machiavelli says this is testimony to what he had said above, that men never do any good except through necessity and that where choice is abundant, license follows and confusion and disorder result.32 In fact, this statement is much stronger than the one in I 1. It is also in marked contrast to Livy’s account of the episode. He remarks the joy of the Senate at the Tarquins’ death,33 but does not tell Machiavelli’s lesson. On the contrary, he supplies a notable speech by Agrippa Menenius likening the Senate to the belly, 28. W., II 11. 29. I.F. I 3; Savonarola, Prediche sopra Marsilius, Defensor Pads I 1. 3; 19. 4. 30. Cf. Aristotle, Politics 1297a 11-14; 31. Consistently w ith this implication, times in I 2, and never again in I 3-8. 32. Cf. St. Augustine, De civitate Dei, 33. Livy, II 21. 6; 30. 1.

Ezecbiele, 2 vols., R. Ridolfi, ed., (Rome, 1956), 11 228; Nicomachean Ethics, 1098a 23-24. NM uses the term ottimati to refer to the aristocrats ten II 18; V 12.

42

I 3

I 4

BOOK I

which seems only to consume and never to nourish. The belly would be a hidden cause (though Livy does not call it so) of benefit, bringing men together; and Livy says that with this speech, Menenius “bent the minds of the men” and prepared the compromise by which the tribunes were established. Machiavelli is aware that necessity does not operate for good unless it is shown. He quotes a saying that hunger and poverty make men industrious, and laws make them good. Then he applies it: where a thing works well of itself, no law is necessary; but when a good custom is lacking, a law is immediately necessary. So when the Tarquins were lacking, one had to think of a new order that would have the same effect of holding the nobility in check as when the Tarquins were alive. T his locution calls attention to the fact that the Tarquins had the same effect w hen expelled as w hen in power, as long as they were alive. The hidden cause of disunion was the malignity of the nobles, but the hidden cause of union was that the Tarquins w ere alive, even if expelled. Could they have been kept alive indefinitely, though expelled? They could have been as gods. Machiavelli concludes that thus they came to the “creation” (a term on which he insists) of the tribunes, whom they ordered with such preeminence and reputation that ever after they could be intermediaries (mezzi) between the plebs and the Senate, to obviate the insolence of the nobles. Thus are the Tarquins identified as a good custom, w hich w orks like the necessities of hunger and poverty without being noticed. Where necessity works of itself, the cause remains hidden under custom; but w hen it does not work, we become aware of it and immediately require a new' law/. A new7 law follows the revelation of necessity, yet it also conceals necessity. For the tribunes could not be seen as serving the same purpose as the Tarquins if they w ere to have the same effect. In the next chapter Machiavelli develops the hidden cause of the nobles’ humanity into the “first cause” that kept Rome free. He says in the title “that the disuniojtuaLthe plebs and the Roman Senate made that republic free and powerful,” but he discusses only how it made Rome free in I 4-5, and puts off how7 it made Rome powerful until I 6jWe have an indication, however, that Rome’s freedom is connected to its pow^r. A’noflief'peTunTrify'atThe'Beginning' or the chapter is less easily explained. MaChiavelh says 1 do not w ish to rail to discuss” the tumults that occurred in Rome from the death of the Tarquins to the creation of the tribunes, and afterw ards “some other things” against the opinion of many who condemn those tumults. Actually, despite this promise, he does fail to discuss those particular tumults, which are described in Livy (II 22-32), and he devotes the chapter to an argument against the opinion of “many” on continual tumults in w hich we must look for his understanding of those particular tumults. This is Machiavelli’s first express disagreement with a common opinion.34 The opinion of many (w hich many?) is that Rome was a tumultuous republic 34. Lefort, p. 474.

THE ORDERING OF REGIMES

45

and full of such confusion that if good fortune and military virtue had not supplied her defects, it would have been inferior to every other republic. In reply Machiavelli says he cannot deny that fortune and militia were causes of the Roman empire, but it appears to him that they do not perceive that where there is good militia, there must be good order, and rarely would good fortune not be present. Machiavelli does not say that good order causes good militia; the two may be identical and a sufficient guarantee of good fortune (or of military virtue, if they are different). Machiavelli wants us to come to “other particulars” of that city, although he has discussed none so far. 1 le says that those who condemn the tumults seem to him to blame things that were “the first cause” of keeping Rome free (not powerful). 1'hey consider more the noises and shouts than the “good effects,” and they do not consider that in every republic there are two diverse humors, that of the people and that of the great (grandi), and that all laws fSMTTabfe to liberty arise from their disunion.35 “The first cause” seems to be disorder, or if order, a kind of order that is not articulated in speech. Accordingly, partisanship is shown in “humors” and not put forth in opinions of justice w hich constitute claims to rule, like the demo¬ cratic and oligarchic partisanship discussed in Book 111 of Aristotle’s Politics. Moreover, “humors” are incident to the lx)dy; so Machiavelli is not speaking of two kinds of souls. Those many w ho condemn the tumults we may take for the writers in the classical tradition supporting the nobles in every republic w ho desire an orderly people. These writers did not consider the good effects of tumults because they believed that the two diverse humors can be brought together if expressed in orderly speech. Referring now to the period of three hundred years from the Tarquins to the Gracchi, Machiavelli points out that the tumults rarely brought exile and very rarely death (sangue)\ so they cannot be judged harmful, nor did they divide the republic. Indeed, only eight or ten—let us say nine—citizens were exiled. Nor can one in any w ay, “with reason,” call a republic disordered in w hich w ere so many examples of virtue, for good exam¬ ples arise from good education, good education from good laws, and good laws front the verv tumults which many inconsiderately condemn. This statement obscures the fact that virtue may cause the tumults, but it makes clear that the good effects of good order can come from apparent disorder. If one examines the end, Machiavelli continues, one will find laws and orders beneficial to public liberty. The mistake of the “many” is to identify the end w ith the first cause and to assume that order cannot arise from disorder. Machiavelli indicates more of what he means by considering “good effects” as he answers an objection to his defense of tumults. Someone might say these modes w ere extraordinary and almost ferocious: to see the people and the Senate shrieking against one another, the tumultuous running in the streets, the closing

35. Guicciardini does not deal with this assertion in his objections to NM’s thesis in 1 4. See also P. 9.

1,

|

I

]

/ .

44 I 4

BOOK I

of shops, the entire plebs leaving Rome—all of which frighten whoever merely reads of them (perhaps especially the reader). Machiavelli replies that every city must have its modes with which the people purges its ambition, especially cities that wish to use the people in “important things.” Obviously he does not answer the objection that the badness of the means cancels the goodness of the effects, unless the frightening means are included in the good effects! In Rome, he says, one of these modes was that when the people wanted a law passed, either it did one of the things mentioned above or it refused to enroll to go to war. This strangely described mode reminds us of an actual incident from the tumults Machiavelli promised to discuss, in which the plebs, acting by the authority of a certain Sicinius, both left the city and refused to go to war unless it was granted magistrates of its own; this rebellion led to the “creation” of the tribunes.36 Then Machiavelli says that the desires of free peoples are rarely pernicious to liberty because they arise either from oppression or from the suspicion of having to be oppressed. And when such opinions are false, the remedy is assemblies (iconcioni) in which a man of good shows them how they are deceived, a remedy vouched for by Cicero, who is misquoted here to Machiavelli’s purpose. Machiavelli omits Cicero’s contrast between a “popular citizen” and a citizen worthy of trust;37 he seems to have in mind a combination of the two, perhaps a sermonizing, popular Cicero—indeed, the very Menenius whose speech to the people against the influence of Sicinius led to the creation of the tribunes.38 In I 3 Machiavelli defends the tribunes as intermediaries between the plebs and the Senate; in I 4 he defends the tumults in which they were intermediaries as the first cause of keeping Rome free. But the tumults were beneficial because they allowed the “people” to puree its ambition; and so ambition becomes the first cause, of freedom...,.To make this point, Machiavelli hides the manipulation of popular ambition by Sicinius and Menenius, two proto-tribunes and exemp¬ lars of the “hidden cause” exposed in I 3. If free people’s desires are rarely pernicious to liberty, we may suppose it is because their, ambition is limited to purging itself against others whose ambition is to oppress. The issue of this chapter is the worth of amliition^-Tut--rhe-TxKue is kept hiicldefnb respecT'ancf imitate the people’s desire not to be oppressed: hence the attention to freedom. The people do not appreciate the need for ambition even to~opposFtlie nobles who would oppress them; so ambition must be hidden from them even when it is useful to them. He concludes that one should blame the Roman government more sparingly and consider that so many good effects were not caused if not by the best causes. If tumults were the cause of the creation of the tribunes, they deserve the highest praise (the phrase applied to Lycurgus in I 2), because besides giving the people a share in administration, they were constituted as the guard of Roman liberty, a more impartial post. This is fainter praise of the 36. Livy, II 32. 2. 37. De Amicitia XXV 95. 38. Livy, II 33. 10-11.

THE ORDERING OF REGIMES

45

tumults than before (as first cause of keeping Rome free), and also hypothetical, to prepare for the activity of the tribunes to he shown “in the following chap¬ ter.” The title of the central chapter of this section asks two questions: whether the guard of liberty is more securely placed in the people or in the great; and who has greater cause to make tumults, those wishing to acquire or those wishing to maintain? The first question poses a choice, not for the Romans, but for some¬ one wishing to found intentionally the orders they came to accidentally. The second question proves to be an aid in answering the first; it promises an inquiry into the cause of what was called “the first cause” in 1 4. On the first question Machiavelli conducts a debate, though not quite impar¬ tially. Those who have prudently constituted a republic, he says, have consti¬ tuted a guard for liberty among the most necessary things they have ordered; and according as they have placed it well, that free life is more or less lasting. But since great men and popular men (pGpolari) are in every republic, there has been doubt in whose hands this guard should be placed. With the Lacedemo¬ nians and in our times with the Venetians, it has been put in the hands of the nobles; but with the Romans, it was put in the hands of the plebs. So it is necessary to examine which of these republics “hail" the better choice: “had” the better choice, because Rome with its accidents did not make a choice (nor did Venice, 1 1). Apparently Machiavelli is prudently constituting a republic (some¬ one else constituted Venice) w ith a guard for liberty rather than virtue, as opposed to Plato’s Republic. The question is not merely w hich party should have the guard in its hands, but how the guard can have the necessary impartiality if it must be placed in the hands of one of the two parties in every republic. Machiavelli says that if one went directly to the reasons, something could be said on each side; but if one examines their outcome (fine), one would take the part of the nobles because the liberty of Sparta and Venice had a longer life than Rome’s. Then he goes to the reasons and does indeed find something to be said on each side. “I say,” he says, taking first the part of the Romans, that one should put as guard of a thing those who have less appetite to usurp it. Without doubt, if one considers the end (fine) of the nobles and the ignobles, one w ill see a great desire to dominate in the nobles, and in the ignobles only the desire not to be dominated, consequently a greater will to live freely since they can hope to usurp freedom less than the great. So w hen popular men are posted as the guard of liberty, it is reasonable that they will have more care for it, and not being able to seize it, w ill not permit others to seize it. Note how the argument loses force as it is explained: the desire not to be dominated is resolved into an inability to dominate. But if the popular men are incapable of seizing liberty, how are they capable of guarding it? And how did the popular men come to be guardians of liberty in Rome? Either they seized the post of guard or the nobles granted it to them notwithstanding their own desire to dominate. One must compare the “ends” (goals) of the two parties w ith the “end” (outcome).

46

BOOK I

On the other side, “whoever defends the Spartan and Venetian side”—not Machiavelli, who spoke for the Roman plebs like a tribune but now merely reports the other side—says that those who put the guard in the hands of the powerful (potenti) do two good things. One, they satisfy their (whose?) ambition more, for, having this stick in hand, they have cause to be more contented; the other, they take away a quality of authority from the restless spirits of the plebs that is cause of infinite dissensions and scandals in a republic and is apt to reduce the nobles to desperation (having no hope of usurping?) that with time produces bad effects. This defender gives the same example of Rome, where one plebeian tribune was not enough and they wanted both, indeed all the ranks of power in the city, and where, beyond this, they began to idolize men whom they saw were fit to beat down the nobility, from which came the power of Marius (Mario)39 and the ruin of Rome. The second argument covers the point over¬ looked in the first: those capable of guarding liberty are capable of beating down the nobility and ruining Rome. But the two points do not seem consistent with each other, as the example of Rome shows that “restless spirits,” once “power¬ ful,” are not content w ith remaining tribunes. Are there tribunes who can be trusted to guard liberty? After this sketch of the path that led “with time” (more than three hundred years, I 4) to Rome’s ruin, Machiavelli raises a doubt and supplies a conclusion for “whomever.” Truly, he says, whoever discusses w;ell one thing and the other, will be in doubt about w hich party to choose as guard of liberty, not knowing w hich humor is more harmful in a republic, that w hich desires to maintain an honor already acquired or that w hich desires to acquire the honor it does not have. Machiavelli speaks here of the desire to maintain or to acquire honors, neither of which can be identified w ith the desire not to be dominated. He appears to distinguish within the class of honor-loving nobles between have’s and have-not’s. The latter would be popular men, restless spirits of the plebs w ho make themselves champions of the people’s cause but share the *

-

B

III" II

humor or ambition of the nobles. Machiavelli allows the defender of the nobles to point out the difference between the popolari and the plebs, then identifies the cause of the people with the desire to acquire honors one does not have, thus concealing the difference. If there w^ere an honor to which the plebs might aspire, then the distinction between maintaining and acquiring this honor might divide all human beings into those satisfied with the life they have and those alw ays looking beyond it. At the end (fine), Machiavelli says, whoever will subtly examine everything w ill draw this conclusion: either you are reasoning about a republic that wishes to make an empire, like Rome, or about one to which it is enough to maintain itself. He leaves a choice between doing everything like Rome or imitating Sparta and Venice, for causes to be shown in the following chapter—implying 39. Try this name in the feminine.

THE ORDERING OF REGIMES

47

that the choice is open. It is a choice of two wholes, Rome or Sparta-Venice, because one cannot merely choose one party, and the choice is made according to the end of each whole. Or does the end of liberty, the end of Rome if prudently constituted, comprehend both acquiring and maintaining? “At the end” whoever subtly examines everything (tutto) will put together the Roman argument, which tells of the different ends of nobles and ignobles, and the Spartan-Venetian, which tells how men pursue their ambition to the end of liberty or ruin. Machiavelli’s defense of tumults as the first cause of keeping Rome free has become an examination of liberty as the end to be guarded. The first cause has become the end or outcome of the whole, but not the goal of the powerful or the restless in the city; their ambition may or may not lead to liberty, and the argument to support their claim to be guard of liberty said nothing of their devotion to liberty. Instead of beginning the next chapter Machiavelli returns to the second ques¬ tion of the present one: which men are more harmful in a republic, those w ho desire to acquire or those who fear to lose what they have acquired. This second restatement of the question equates “having greater cause to make tumults” with being harmful, which does not accord with I 4, and interprets the desire to maintain acquisitions as fear of loss. Machiavelli gives an example of two magis¬ trates w ho investigated certain conspiracies in Capua against Rome and also40 those in Rome seeking the consulate and other honors “by ambition and ex¬ traordinary means.” He mistakes loth names, giving Maenius the name of Menenius, which he had stubbornly ignored in I 3, 4;41 and he calls them both plebeians on the basis of an implication in Livy,42 as follow s. Now the nobles circulated the story that not they but the “ignobles” were seeking honors by ambition and extraordinary means since they could not trust in their birth (sangue: compare I 4, where it meant death!) or their virtue, and they particu¬ larly accused the dictator “Menenius.” He called an assembly (see I 4) and, complaining of the calumnies given out by the nobles (note the quick translation of accusation into calumny), resigned his office and appealed to the judgment of the people. After his “cause” was pleaded, he was absolved. We see that he did in fact make use of an extraordinary mode precisely to clear himself of the charge of ambition, and perhaps also to advance his ambition, as Livy hints.43 It was here disputed, Machiavelli says, departing from Livy altogether, who is more ambitious, he who wishes to maintain or he who wishes to acquire. Surprisingly, the answ er is he who wishes to maintain; for most times the fear of loss generates the same wishes that are in those who desire to acquire, because it does not appear to men that possession is secure unless a man acquires some40. Cf. Livy, IX 26. 8-9. NM is more explicit than Livy that the dictator hail “popular authority.” 41. The other name occurs in D. Ill 48, the chapter on intentional mistakes. 42. Livy, IX 26. 12. 43. Ibid., IX 26. 13.

48 I 5

BOOK I

thing new besides. And possessors have greater power and push to make changes. Then their behavior kindles a wish to possess in the breasts of those who do not possess, either for revenge against exploiters or to have riches and honors they see badly used by others. Thus Machiavelli excuses ambition by tracing it to fear among possessors and to a defensive reaction by nonpossessors. A debate between supporters of the people and the nobles over which makes the safer guard of liberty has become a dispute between nobles and ignobles, re¬ solved by/an asserted equivalence between the desire to maintain and the desire to acquire. The only difference between nobles and ignobles might be a greater willingness of the latter to resort to the “extraordinary mode” of appealing to the l people. In our example a plebeian dictator, motivated by fear of loss, made such an appeal. Perhaps a tribune who understands himself as a noble possessing something he could lose would make a trustworthy guard of liberty and not beat

I 6

down the nobility. In the Livian version of this example, the nobles in their extremity were said to have appealed to the tribunes.44 Machiavelli omits this detail in order to suggest that recourse to present-day nobles, bearing in mind that Tarquins in principalities are comparable to tribunes in republics. If maintaining and acquiring generate the same wishes, perhaps we have a basis for union between the two parties. In I 6 Machiavelli considers the possi¬ bility of union in Rome: “Whether in Rome one could have ordered a state that would have taken away the enmities between the people and the Senate.” He reminds us of the effects of the “controversies” (choosing this term for the first time) between the people and the Senate; they were “great” but also the cause of the ruin of free life in Rome. Someone might therefore desire for Rome the great effects without the enmities, he says, and so he raises the hypothetical question of the chapter title for this dissatisfied remaker of Rome. To examine the question, he says it is necessary to recur to those republics that were free for so long without enmities and tumults, Sparta among the ancients and Venice among the moderns, to see whether their “state” could be introduced in Rome. While these republics were taken together in I 5 to represent the party of the nobles, they are now distinguished and described at some length, with strange and inaccurate detail. First, Sparta is said to have made one king and a small Senate to govern her. But Sparta had two kings, and here as in I 5 Machiavelli omits the ephors, magistrates similar to the tribunes which he reserves for Rome, so that Sparta hardly seems to have had a mixed constitution of three parts45 (compare I 2). Then he turns to Venice. Venice did not divide the government “with names,” but under one appellation all those in the administration are called gentlemen. Machiavelli emphasizes the conventionality of “gentlemen”; this “mode” was given by “chance” according to the “causes” described above. Many inhabitants came together, ordered a form of government, then “closed the way” to the 44. Ibid.. IX 26. 10, 16. 45. Sasso, Studi su Machiavelli, pp. 266, 272; W., II 19.

THE ORDERING OF REGIMES

49

government to new inhabitants; with time, when many inhabitants were outside the government, to give reputation to the governors they were called gentlemen and the others the people. This “mode” could be established without tumult because anyone then living in Venice was included in the government; so no¬ body could complain. Those who came afterward found the state “firm and terminated” and had neither cause nor opportunity to make a tumult—no cause because nothing had been taken away from them, no opportunity because those who ruled kept them in check and did not use them in matters where they could seize authority. Besides, not many came afterward, and there was such propor¬ tion between governors and governed that the number of gentlemen was equal or superior to the governed. These were the causes of unity in Venice, as Machiavelli concludes his vague and unconvincing summary. Returning to Sparta, Machiavelli repeats his mistake that it was governed by one king and a limited Senate, and gives a confusing account of what kept it united. He mentions three items: that Sparta had few inhabitants, had blocked ''the way to whoever might have come to live, and had held the laws of Lycurgus in repute. Amplifying the third, he says that those laws made “more equality of substance, less equality of rank (grado)” effecting an equality of poverty. The plebeians were less ambitious because rank in the city was confined to a few and kept at a distance from the plebs, which was not badly treated by the nobles. Machiavelli explains this result as he explained the union in Rome during and just after the reign of the Tarquins, for he says that the Spartan kings (now plural), placed in the middle of the nobles, upheld their own dignity by keeping the plebs defended from every injury. Since the plebs neither feared nor desired power, the rivalry they might have had with the nobility was taken away, and thus also the cause of tumults. But now Machiavelli says two things chiefly caused this union, few inhabitants who could be governed by few and not receiving foreigners so that they did not become corrupt or grow so much as to be ungovernable by few. The equality of poverty w hich Polybius thought the feature of Lycurgus’ legislation46 is suddenly dropped. Considering all these things, one sees how the legislators of Rome had to do one of two things to keep Rome quiet, either not use the plebs in war like the Venetians or not open the way to foreigners like the Spartans. With this “con¬ sidering” Machiavelli waves aw ay the “causes” that kept the Venetians united, reducing them to lack of opportunity for the plebs to seize authority because of war (see the “extraordinary” mode of the Roman plebs in I 4). And he takes the causes of Spartan unity to one: whereas the Venetians kept the number of their inhabitants small by the chance of their site, which also permitted their “gen¬ tlemen” to grow rich and buy mercenaries, Sparta remained quiet by keeping out foreigners47 deliberately. Causing union by keeping the state quiet requires the domination of the few, and this can be accomplished, it appears, only by a 46. Polybius, VI 48. 3. 47. T his point is in Plutarch, Lycurgus 27, but not in Polybius; W., 11 19.

50

BOOK I

lucky or arbitrary restriction of the number in the state. Nothing can be found in the quality of being gentle or noble for w hich rank might be given and government might be formed. Number, not quality, is sovereign in politics and

I 6

perhaps in all things. Rome’s “legislators” acted in accordance w ith this principle, for Machiavelli now attributes the accidents that made Rome perfect to the intention of several or many legislators. They did both things, using the plebs in war and opening the way to foreigners, so that they gave forces and increase to the plebs, as well as infinite occasions for tumult.(But if the Roman state had been more quiet, Machiavelli says, this inconvenience would have followed: it would have been weaker, and the w ay to greatness would have been cut off] If Rome had wished to remove the causes of tumult it w ould also have removed the causes of growth. “And in all human things whoever examines them well sees this: that one can never cancel one inconvenience so that another does not rise up.” Machiavelli speaks in the familiar: if you wish to make a people numerous and armed, so as to be able to make a great empire, you cannot manage it as you like (a tuo modo)\ if you keep it small and disarmed to be able to manage it, and you gain domin¬ ion, you cannot keep it, or become so vile that you are prey for w hoever attacks you. We can see that although both policies have inconveniences, neither inconve¬

^s

niences nor advantages are equal. Inconveniences that rise up against a prudent policy will be less than other inconveniences, and will even make men better through the necessity to overcome them. Machiavelli’s statement does not deny that Rome’s perfection is possible, nor is it meant to discourage imitation of Rome. What it does exclude is perfection by a perfect beginning legislated at one stroke.[A perfect beginning would require that man’s needs and desires be supplied w ith nature’s bounty or at least allowed satisfaction by nature’s provi¬ sion; it would require that the activity of human nature be compatible with nature’s movements^ Machiavelli seems to say that there is no such bounty, provision or compatibility, and that the best regime for human beings is not according to nature. The very faculty of reason or speech (logos) w hich Aristotle offered as the reason w hy man is by nature a political animal48 is presented by Machiavelli in the activity of tumult, of passionate and noisy clashing. He means of course the tumults between the nobles and the people every w here, to which the possible alternative is not reasonable compromise but “quiet.” But what is the cause of tumults in the political sense? Machiavelli has said it is the fear of loss w hich makes it appear to men that they do not possess securely “w hat man has” unless they acquire anew (I 5); so this fear must be put down to the fact that nature appears to men not as the provider but as a harsh taskmaster or tyrant in the guise of necessity. By “tumult” Machiavelli also refers, there¬ fore, to the unreasonable character of nature, or to the lack of correspondence 48. Politics 1253a 8-19.

THE ORDERING OF REGIMES

51

between what men assert as good for them and what speech can articulate as the principle or end of nature, a thought available to Machiavelli from classical political science as well as from its principal opponent known to Machiavelli, Lucretian epicureanism. In this regard we easily recognize those positions displayed in his strange descriptions of Sparta and Venice, the one a land-based regime of legislated rank kept quiet by a resident monarch, the other a chance, sea-faring regime of so-called gentlemen promoted by their inferiors.49 The difference between them is that Sparta used the plebs at war, thus exhibiting and arousing plebeian or human assertiveness. Machiavelli says to his pupil, contrary to classical political science, that if you w ish to be powerful enough to assert man, you cannot manage men as you like. In this chapter he used the word via (way) ten times, though never in the phrase “extraordinary ways" first used in 1 5. The Spartans and Venetians attempt to order their cities by closing or blocking or taking away the way to foreigners, keeping them unified by insulation and constraint. But Rome opened the way from man to nature, denying the selfsufficiency of politics while giving vent to human ambition and fear. One should choose the better policy, Machiavelli continues, the^ai^yherc bhe^jnronvenieiirrs an- fewer, for w hat is entirely clear and entirely without suspicion is never found. Again he does not deny but rather shows the w ay to the perfection that cannot be seen from the beginning. He compares Rome to Sparta now, omitting Venice, and says that the wish to make a great empire entails an increase in the number of citizens, who could not be unified by a prince or king for life, and a small Senate. The Spartan mixed government would be overwhelmed by the increased number of citizens resulting from a foreign policy of imperialism, and foreign policy determines domestic policy by supplying the material that does or does not tolerate restrictive forms. If the material is determining, it might be better to consider the forms as mere names, like the Venetians. Machiavelli mentions the detail that the Spartan king (still only one) held office for life. Could he have more effect if his rule could be prolonged beyond one life? Machiavelli now states the alternative for someone w ishing to order a republic anew', not merely to remake Rome. T his person would have to examine if he wished the republic to grow or remain within narrow' limits. In the first case it is necessary to allow tumults and “universal dissensions” like Rome, for a republic cannot grow or maintain its growth without a great number of well-armed men. In the second case “you” can order it like Sparta and Venice but must prevent it from acquiring, for acquisitions based on a weak republic bring it to ruin, as happened w ith both Sparta and Venice. Machiavelli emphasizes the suddenness 49. Plato, Republic 473d; Aristotle, Politics 1288a 15-19; Lucretius, De return natura V 435-448, 821-827, 1169-1 179, 1210-1217. A copy of Lucretius in Machiavelli’s hand has recently been discovered; Sergio Bertelli, “Noterelle Machiavelliane; un codice di Lucrezio,” Rivista Storica, Italiana 73 (1961), 544-553.

52 I 6

BOOK I

with which both republics in situations of command were utterly ruined—as if that had not happened to Rome, perhaps also in one battle like Venice. He exaggerates the weakness of Sparta’s foundations by omitting the work of Pelopidas’ partner in overthrowing the Spartan empire, the contemplative Epaminondas.50 Then he states the conditions under which he “would believe” a republic ordered on the inside like Sparta or Venice would last a “long time” (compare I 2). It would have to be in a strong place, so that no one could believe he could quickly conquer it, yet it should not be so great as to be formidable to its neighbors. There are two causes for making war on a republic: to become its lord and for fear lest it seize you. This “mode” takes away both causes almost entirely; rarely or never will “one” (uno) be able to make a plan to acquire it, nor will “one” ever think to make war on it out of fear. Machiavelli returns to two causes for making war, as opposed to one cause for making tumults (I 5, end) because he is “one” who is not acting in fear. “I believe” that if one could keep the thing balanced in this mode, this would be the “true political life and true quiet of a city.” That is, the “place” of man and his city in nature would be sufficiently fortified to allow him to order it by his standards. But, Machiavelli says, since all human beings are in motion and cannot remain firm, they must rise or fall; and to many things to which reason does not bring you, necessity does. So when a republic ordered to maintain itself, not to grow, is led to grow by necessity, its foundations are taken away and it is ruined more quickly. But if Heaven is so kind that the republic does not have to make war, then leisure will make it effeminate or divided. Both things together or each by itself will cause its ruin. Evidently when Machiavelli says human things are in motion, he means in accordance with necessity not with reason, and when he says all human things, he includes the political foundations by which men take their bearings. Reason does not have the power to lay down foundations which set limits to human acquisition. Either necessity will bring them down in war or Heaven will do so in peace. Therefore, he says, “I believe” one cannot keep to “this middle way” precisely (that is, the Spartan-Venetian way); in ordering republics one must think of the “more honorable” course (not the necessary course) and order them so that if necessity induces them to ex¬ pand, they can keep what they have seized. With this piece of impudence Machiavelli turns his back on the specious kindness of Heaven. Returning to “the first reasoning,” he believes one must follow the Roman order and not that of the other republics because he does not believe there is any mode between them. One must tolerate the enmities be¬ tween the people and the Senate as an inconvenience necessary for arriving at Roman greatness.51 Machiavelli “believes” repeatedly at the end of this chapter. He believes he must follow Rome because there is no middle way between Sparta or Venice and Rome, although his argument had been that Sparta and 50. Cf. D. I 17, 21; III 6, 13, 18, 38; S., p. 328nl87. Plutarch, Pelopidas 3^t. 51. Pierre Manent, Naissances de la politique moderne (Paris, 1977), pp. 24-26.

THE ORDERING OF REGIMES

53

Venice must be rejected as representing themselves an untenable middle way. To reject them, he has shown that a republic has no choice between quiet and empire, but only between keeping its acquisitions anti letting them go. Yet is not letting go one’s acquisitions a middle way between acquiring and not acquir¬ ing? For the moment Machiavelli does not accept his suggestion. He “believes” in Rome; he puts his faith in Rome despite its loss of liberty. His egregious surrender to Roman imperialism here will prove to mean, however, that he has taken the honorable course and plans to keep w hat Rome has taken. Machiavelli casually introduces the next chapter on accusation as one benefit among others of having the tribunes guard liberty, and one authority among their others. They have been identified as middlemen (I 3), and they w ill serve in I 7-8 instead of the “middle way” to produce union in a republic, as was indicated in I 2. In I 3-6 they have been shown to be the effect of a hidden cause that kept Rome free and powerful. This section of chapters on the regime, I 2-8, is essentially a section on the tribunes, giving them an importance they do not have in Polybius, Livy, or any other classical account. Yet the power of accusa¬ tion is only one of their authorities, apparently illustrative of their function. And Machiavelli begins the seventh chapter by generalizing tribunes to “those who are promoted in a city for the guarding of its liberty.” These guardians have no authority more useful and necessary than to accuse citizens to the people, or to some magistrate or council, when they “sin” in any way against free government. “Sin” is an inappropriate word here, but it is not irrelevant. This order has two very useful effects, Machiavelli says. The first is that citizens do not attempt anything against the state for fear of being accused, and if they do make an attempt they are put down instantly and without respect. The other is that it offers a way to purge humors that arise in cities in some way against some citizen. So the first effect is either deterrence or defense, and the second is purging. But since purging cannot occur unless deterrence fails, one must count on citizens ambitious enough not to be deterred. To enjoy both effects, a republic must have the two diverse humors which w ere said to be in every republic (1 4), and the second effect of purging humors against a citizen reminds us of the necessity that the people purge its ambition by “extraordinary means,” stated in the same place. Now, how ever, Machiavelli says that if the humors are not purged “ordinarily,” they have recourse to “extraordinary modes w hich ruin the w hole republic.” Purging “ordinarily” is done through an “order” or through “a way” ordered by laws. Purging by extraordinary modes is illegal, as in I 4, but so far from necessary as to be ruinous to a republic. Machiavelli now accepts something of the “opinion of many” against the tumults in Rome, though not all of it if ordinary purging is still in part tumultuous. The need for purging ordinarily can be shown in many examples, and espe¬ cially in that of Coriolanus, adduced by Titus Livy. In this first mention of Livy, Machiavelli forces him into line w ith his own intention, since the example was certainly not “adduced” by Livy to show the need for purging humors

54 I 7

BOOK I

ordinarily. We also note that the first reference to Livy is to the second book. But Machiavelli has found the matter of the first of the “first ten books” in Polybius, and without Livy’s discussion of the divinity of Rome’s beginning, which would have been inconvenient. Now' he gives a curiously truncated version of Coriolanus’ “example.” He says that the Roman nobility was angered after the creation of the tribunes, thinking the plebs had too much authority; and since food happened to be scarce in Rome then, Coriolanus, an enemy of the popular faction, advised that the time had arrived w hen they could punish the plebs and take away that authority if they kept the people famished and did not distribute the grain they had sent for. When this opinion reached the ears of the people, they came out w ith such indignation against Coriolanus that he would have been “tumultuously killed” as he left the Senate had the tribunes not cited him to appear to defend his cause. This “accident” shows how7 necessary it is to give a w ay to purge the w rath (ira) that the “universality” conceives against one citizen. So much for the famous story of Coriolanus. Machiavelli says nothing here52 of how it began and how it turned out, though both are relevant to his point. He transforms a tale that Livy tells at length, that makes every reader wonder or ponder, and that the best poets have imitated, into one of many examples of the ordinary working of a Roman order. Coriolanus is identified simply as an “enemy of the popular faction” w ho served the Roman state as the single citizen against w hom the people purged itself, and yet, by the excellent orders of that state, escaped a tumultuous death. Here is nothing extraordinary to supply material for tragedy. Machiavelli omits Livy’s report that the Senate thought Coriolanus’ proposal too harsh and yet was reluctant to see him punished at all. He also exaggerates Coriolanus’ hostility to the people by comparison to Livy. Livy calls him merely an “enemy of the tribunician power” and he says that Coriolanus wanted to tame, not punish, the people.53 Thus Machiavelli trans¬ forms the issue from a partisan conflict betw een the Senate and the people into a purging in which the people or “the universality” turned their wrath on Coriolanus defending his cause. Livy says that “the plebs had risen w ith such incensed anger that the fathers had to satisfy them by punishment of one,”54 and Machiavelli treats this anguished compulsion as an ordinary institution of the regime w hereby the nobles’ desire to punish is itself punished. A republic needs an order through which the “universality”—all things or nature—has its revenge on men, or else some men will be too much encouraged in their desire to 52. See D. 1 29, twenty-two chapters later, and III 13, ninety-nine chapters later. 53. Livy, II 34. 9-35. 1. In A.G. VI (485), Maehiavelli’s Fabrizio says, to illustrate how a captain should divide the forces of his enemy: “You know how Coriolanus, coming to Rome with an army, preserved the possessions of the nobles, and burned and sacked those of the plebs.” Here Coriolanus’ enmity to the people is made a matter of policy, with still less evidence in Livy than the attributions in D. 17. 54. Livy, II 35. 6.

THE ORDERING OF REGIMES

master others. Yet this order can work “ordinarily” without tumultuous death for the individual. When there are no ordinary modes, Machiavelli repeats, men have recourse to extraordinary modes with worse effects. For if a citizen is oppressed ordinarily, even if wrongly, little or no disorder follows in the republic, as the execution is done “without private forces and without foreign forces,” which ruin free life, but “with public forces and order,” which have their limits and do not “rise” to something ruinous to the republic. We see that Machiavelli weeps no tears for the oppressed individual whose execution by ordinary modes, especially if wrongful, must seem a small gain over a tumultuous death. Machiavelli gives his second definition of extraordinary modes as resort to private and foreign forces, but explains only the harm from private forces: from private injuries fear is generated, fear seeks defense^ for defense partisans are obtained; from partisans parties arise in cities, and from parties ruin for cities. But if the matter is governed “by whoever has authority over it,” those evils can be removed which can arise when it is governed by “private authority.” The distinction between extraordinary private forces and ordinary public forces is completely confused with the term “private authority.” And who was the authority governing the Coriolanus episode? Machiavelli does not say, but it may have been the tribunes or the Senate governing with retrospective instruction from Machiavelli and by his private authority. In the explanation of what might have happened if Coriolanus had been tumultuously killed, the venting of anger is replaced by the reactions of fear. When Machiavelli thereafter suggests that the w hole event w as or could have been governed by someone, we can infer that the method is to treat anger as if it w ere fear. This method opens a “way” from the anger of men against other men to the fear all men share, but w ithin such limits that they fear the public authority, not a private authority that might also be foreign. Having identified Coriolanus’ example as “from the ancients,” Machiavelli brings up an example “we have seen in our times” in Florence, where the multitude was unable to purge its animus (ammo) against one citizen. This first contrast between an ancient and a modern example in the Discourses (for the Proemium merely implies a promise to recur to ancient examples and the debate in I 5 avoids a contrast) is made between the Romans and “us Florentines.” In this way ancient examples are shown to be available for imitation to us here and now, while Machiavelli gives assurance of his loyalty to his own time and place. In Florence Francesco Valori was as it were a prince of the city and was judged ambitious by many, “and a man who might w ish with his audacity and spirited¬ ness [animosita] to rise above [trascendere] civil life.” In no way could he be resisted except by “a sect contrary to his,” which Machiavelli identifies w ith “extraordinary modes,” to make the third and central definition of that phrase in the chapter. Extraordinary modes are now the purging of humors through a sect, and these were the only thing Valori feared, Machiavelli says. Valori’s

56 I 7

BOOK I

“sect” was the party of Savonarola, who is not mentioned. The word “sect” has a religious connotation, but it is applied first to a sect contrary to Savonarola’s that would be a party in the republic of Florence.55 Next Machiavelli says that those opposing Valori, lacking ordinary ways to repress him, thought about extraordinary ways, came to arms, and thus Valori’s authority was destroyed not only with harm to him alone, but since it was done extraordinarily, the harm was to many other noble citizens also. We see that whereas ancient Rome found ordinary modes with which to govern extraordinary tumults, so that exile was rare and bloodshed very rare (I 4), modern Florence could not govern these tumults ordinarily and so many noble citizens were harmed and their ambition punished. It might yet be suspected, however, that the example of Coriolanus, rare as it was, could not have been simply advantageous to Rome (I 6). Machiavelli refers to another Florentine example, “the accident” to Piero Soderini, which came about because there existed no means of accusing the ambition of powerful citizens (plural; he has just spoken of a sect) in that republic. For it is not enough to accuse someone powerful to eight judges (the magistracy of Eight in Florence: would nine be enough? Compare the eight or ten exiled citizens in I 4). The judges must be many “because the few always behave in the manner of the few.” That remark is more hostile to aristocracy than flattering to democracy, as the many are not said to judge more justly than the few. The many always behave in the manner of the many, for their quality too is determined by number. The few are no better but also no worse than a few many, as their desire to master others need not be derived from a superior quality and can be reduced to a fear of loss shared with the many who desire not to be mastered. Machiavelli has become more hostile to the few than he was at the beginning of the chapter, where he allowed accusations before a magistracy or council, perhaps because of the danger posed by Valori and his “supporters” (fautori), who have brought the harm of ambitious leisure to many noble citi¬ zens. If there had been modes for accusing Piero, he says, the citizens could have accused him without having the Spanish army come or, if he were not living badly, they would not have dared to work against him for fear of being accused; and thus from each side the appetite that caused the scandal would have ceased. We remark that the appetite for punishing does not need to be satisfied in ruling; it can be purged or quieted. Machiavelli’s reference is to the “accident” in 1512 that disordered Florence (I 2) and incidentally threw' Machiavelli out of office. This scandal w as avoidable. One can conclude that w henever “outside forces” are called for by a party of men living in the city, one can believe that this arises from its bad orders, since it has no order for purging malign humors without extraordinary modes. The fifth definition of extraordinary modes makes it clear that men must have ordi55. See Mansfield, “Party and Sect in Machiavelli’s Florentine Historiesp. 210n2; Eugenio Garin, Dal rinascimento aWilluminismo (Pisa, 1970), pp. 61-62, “Purging” occurs seven times in I 7, Lefort notes on p. 485.

THE ORDERING OF REGIMES

I 7

57

nary modes within the city to perform the same function of purging malign humors. Machiavelli says that such modes were so well ordered in Rome (for ordered modes are ordinary modes) that in so many dissensions not Senate nor plebs nor any particular citizen ever planned to use outside forces; since they had the remedy at home (in casa) they did not need to go outside. We shall suppose that a remedy “at home” means “in this world,” for otherwise we would have no explanation for Machiavelli’s terrible blunder in forgetting how Coriolanus used outside forces against Rome—unless we should concede that this Coriolanus did not plan to use outside forces. Machiavelli now wants to bring up another example “recited by Titus Livy in his history,” though he says the examples given are sufficient, and previously he had said that Coriolanus’ example was enough from the ancients. This example, illustrating the appeal to outside forces which could never have occurred in well-ordered Rome, is both ancient and modern. Livy tells (Machiavelli says) how in Chiusi, a very noble Tuscan city, a sister of Arruns was violated by a certain Lucumo, who was so powerful that Arruns went to the French to avenge himself. To be exact, Livy said the wife, not the sister, of Arruns.56 The French were “in the place today called Lombardy,” by which unnecessary detail Machiavelli calls attention to his use of a modern name for the Gauls, for which he gives no apology. Arruns persuaded the “French” to come to Chiusi, show¬ ing them how they could avenge his injury to their advantage. If he had seen that he could have avenged himself with the modes of the city, he would not have sought out “barbarian forces.” Machiavelli does not say that the French came not only to Chiusi but to Rome itself, and that this invasion, like that of the Volscii under Coriolanus, was a near disaster for Rome. Clearly for a republic to be well ordered itself is not enough, since its ill-ordered neighbor may call in barbarian forces that threaten everyone. In this example Machiavelli looks from the standpoint of the man desiring vengeance, not of the people venting their anger, to show the connection between resorting to private forces and to foreign or outside or barbarian forces. The point is not difficult and could be made more directly were it not for the pow er of outside forces “in our times” which seek to transcend civil life. Machiavelli is forced to present modern Florence in the guise of ancient Tuscany, but to the extent he can succeed in presenting modern things in terms of ancient things, he can claim that modern things are not so unique as to prevent imitation of the ancients, in particular he can claim that the supernatural is reducible to the “extraordinary.” At the end of the chapter Machiavelli says that as accusations are useful in a republic, so calumnies are useless and harmful; he refers to the discussion “in the follow ing chapter” whose title makes a similar comparison as if in answer to the title of I 7. That title was “how necessary” accusations were; then at the beginning of the chapter it was said that no authority w as more useful and 56. S., p. 318n66. Livy, V 33. 3-6.

58 I 7

I 8

BOOK I

necessary. Apparently accusations cannot be understood unless they are com¬ pared with calumnies, but the comparison is reserved for I 8. In I 7 accusations are shown to be the means of preventing recourse to extraordinary modes, which are not mentioned in I 8. Machiavelli begins with an example: notwithstanding that the virtue of Camillus, after he had freed Rome from the oppression57 of the French, had made all Roman citizens yield to him, without its appearing to them that reputa¬ tion or rank were taken from them, still Manlius Capitolinus could not tolerate such honor and glory attributed to Camillus, since he thought he deserved as much as Camillus for having saved the Capitol, because in regard to the safety of Rome and other bellicose glory (laude) he was not inferior. Machiavelli does not tell us that Manlius was envious of Camillus for an exploit made necessary by the same appeal to outside forces by Arruns cited in I 7. It was surely marvelous that all Roman citizens (except Manlius) yielded to Camillus without feeling that they lost anything by doing so; any future savior of a republic, including Machiavelli himself, might envy this result. For a perfect result of union by yielding to one without envy of him, that one would have to exceed all others while not appearing to be their rival. But envious Manlius, seeing that he could not sow discord among the Fathers, turned to the plebs (unlike Coriolanus, who appealed to outside forces) and sowed various sinister opinions among them. For thus casting his lot with the tribunes, Livy blames him58 but Machiavelli does not. Among other statements by Manlius, Machiavelli says, passing over Livy’s suggestion that Manlius desired to become king,59 was that a certain treasure gathered for the French but not given to them, was “usurped by private citi¬ zens” (Livy says senators). As this charge began to cause tumults, the Senate appointed a dictator to look into the case and to check the fury of Manlius. The dictator immediately had him cited, and appeared in the midst of the nobles to confront Manlius, who appeared in the midst of the plebs. He asked Manlius who held the treasure Manlius had spoken of, because the Senate was as desir¬ ous of knowing as the plebs. Manlius tried to evade the question, saying that it was not necessary to tell them what they knew, but after failing to name a specific culprit, he was put in prison. So ends the example of Manlius, also without its sensational finish.60 Perhaps Machiavelli wished to show his respect for his own famous rival Marsilius, even in the course of a caricature. In Machiavelli’s presentation, Manlius’ appeal to the people was countered with another appeal.61 One could say that Manlius was accused of calumny, and made responsible for the good things promised to the people from the treasure held in private hands. All he had to do was say what he knew, if he knew it, and 57. A curious word, because the Romans had not been conquered by the French. 58. Livy, VI 11. 7-8. 59. Livy, VI 14. 2; 18. 16; 20. 4-7. 60. See D. I 24. 61. NM does not mention the citizenry’s being “very submissive to just power,” w hich decided the issue according to Livy, VI 16. 3.

THE ORDERING OF REGIMES

8

59

the people would immediately benefit. But he hemmed and hawed, and showed that he did not know or that he did not care for the people. Thus, although the dictator was appointed to investigate the case and to check Manlius, his investi¬ gation was complete when he had checked Manlius; for Manlius himself became the culprit Manlius had failed to name. Machiavelli says it is to be noted in this text how detestable are calumnies in free cities and in every other way of life. But he does not yet call Manlius’ charge a calumny, as he must first explain the difference between accusations and calumnies. There is no better order, he says, for taking away calumnies than to open “many places” for accusations, because accusations help republics as much as calumnies hurt. Applied to the example, this means that the accusation against Manlius helped as much as his calumny would have hurt. But there would have been no accusation without the calumny, and the detestable meanness of envy may have the purgative effect mentioned in I 7 (but missing here) if it is properly ordered. Two differences between accusations and calumnies are given. Calumnies have no need of witnesses or of any other evidence, so that anyone can be calumniated by anyone; but accusations need true evidence and circumstances that show their truth. Men are accused to magistrates, peoples, and councils; they are calumniated in piazzas and loggias (also churches?). Machiavelli makes no legal distinction between accusation and calumny, and he passes up an opportunity to expatiate on the rule of law which it might seem to be the object of a legislator to establish. Instead, he defines calumnies in two distinct ways, as false charges and as private charges, yet without calling attention to the distinc¬ tion. Surely a false charge could be made in public, and a private charge could be true. In mixing the two definitions Machiavelli implies that truth is suffi¬ ciently guaranteed in public: if a charge can be presented in public, it will be true enough to constitute an accusation; and if it is true, it can be presented in public. With this conjunction, the w holesome purgative effect of accusations put forth in I 7 and the necessity that accusations be true, argued in I 8, can be considered harmonious. If social health and the truth spoken about ambitious men are in harmony, then the truth of nature and human nature, though not indeed flattering to men, must be still malleable to their ambition. When the truth is spoken in an accusa¬ tion, it is effectually the truth about a certain individual or identifiable group, the ambition of a specific culprit, vouched for by another specific individual w ho, becauses he accuses in public, takes responsibility for the accusation. As we have seen in I 7, ambitious men unchecked by public forces and orders may appeal to outside forces and attempt to “transcend civil life,” thus destroying the responsibility of a city for its citizens. Ambition must therefore be made respon¬ sible to the common good, that is, to the needs of human beings; and ambitious men must be liable to accusation. 13ut in an unfriendly w orld of chance and necessity men need ambitiop; they need the ambitious men among them. If the ambitious men are not to lie accused merely for their ambition but for “tran(£ v*

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60 I 8

BOOK I

scending civil life,” they must be accused by a man willing to take the responsi¬ bility that unambitious men shirk or deny. Even or especially in accusing ambi¬ tion, men must exercise ambition so that it is not simply-repressed. Accusations, as opposed to calumnies, attack this or that ambition rather than ambition itself, both because they must state the particulars and because they must be moved by ambitious men. Through accusations the “occult cause” becomes visible by being determined in an individual. Thereby the Senate, or the class of ambiti¬ ous men, not to mention “whoever has authority” over the matter (I 7), becomes less visible. It governs by appointing ambitious individuals, stepping quietly to the rear, and allowing the people to choose between accuser and accused. Calumniators cannot complain, Machiavelli says, when they are punished because “open places” are available where accusations may be heard of those calumniated in loggias. Piazzas, which were arenas of calumny just above, are not mentioned now and would seem to have become “open places” for accusa¬ tions; they are closed in, of course, by the city, but the city can be opened up to a franker recognition of the need for ambition. Since the public furnishes expres¬ sion for private grievances, private citizens are free to bring charges without fear or respect. Thus they cannot complain when they are wronged unless they have complained publicly of their wrong, which they may do without fear or respect. But when they have complained publicly, they have accepted the condition of public attention that their charge be specific in origin and object. If under this condition the charge does not stand up, the accuser is punished as a calum¬ niator. He cannot complain because he was granted the opportunity of satisfac¬ tion that he asked for, and if he does not get what he wants, at least he gets what he said he wanted. He cannot complain if he has not complained and he cannot complain if he has. Machiavelli seems to propose a system of accusations based on one’s own initiative, instead of a regime of justice in which men get what they deserve rather than what they ask for. He says that calumnies cause great disorders because they irritate and do not punish citizens; those irritated think of getting their own back, hating rather than fearing the things said against them. He would rather quell anger with fear than harden it with justice. Machiavelli returns to the contrast of I 7 between well-ordered Rome and ill-ordered Florence. This contrast is about the truth of accusations, and the other about the appeal to outside forces, but they are connected. Those who govern by a publicly expressed truth with witnesses and evidence cannot appeal to their private knowledge of “outside forces,” whether in the way of “Manlius” or of Christianity. “Whoever reads the histories of this city” will see how many calumnies were given out to its citizens, and Machiavelli supplies three sample kinds of calumnies there. Thence from every side arose hatred; from hatred they went to division, from division to sects and from sects to ruin. Here is a road to disaster parallel to the progress of fear in I 7, with the substitution of hatred for fear and sects for parties in the modern context. In Rome fear might have

THE ORDERING OF REGIMES

8

61

produced parties and ruin had Coriolanus been killed tumultuously, but in Florence hatred did bring sects and ruin or at least “countless scandals.” Yet interestingly enough the result would have been the same. When Machiavelli came to write his own histories of Florence, he made his theme the difference between ancient parties and modern sects. Countless scandals would not have occurred if Florence had had an order for accusing citizens—and for punishing calumniators, Machiavelli adds. He had spoken of “suppressing calumnies” w hen he called them detestable, but they are suppressed by accusations which isolate accuser or accused, one of whom (un¬ less he stands mute) must be a calumniator. I le must be “condemned or acquit¬ ted” of calumny. But under an “order” of accusations, his punished calumnies could not harm the city. It is not that calumnies are punished because they are detestable, nor are they punished merely because they harm the city; rather, punished calumnies help the city. Since a successful accusation implies a punished calumny, one might say in accordance with the chapter title that punished calumnies are as useful to republics as unpunished calumnies are harmful. Machiavelli says that calumnies are among things used by some citizen to ascend to greatness by taking the part of the people against pow erful citizens. They would surely be useful, then, to ambitious plebeians or to the tribunes w ho made the Roman republic more perfect (I 3). Out of many examples that could be given, Machiavelli w ishes to be content w ith only one—and then he gives one utterly inapt example of a Florentine, w ho did not rise to greatness through calumnies but fell into despair, a victim of calumny. 11 is purpose in this ruse is to show us how7 calumnies can be useful to republics. I he Florentine was Messer Giovanni Guicciardini, commissioner of the army that besieged Lucca. “Either by his bad government or by his bad fortune” the siege w as not successful, anti whichever was the case (or chance: caso), he was blamed and it was said he had been corrupted by the Lucchese. T his calumny, encouraged by his enemies, brought Messer Giovanni almost to ultimate de¬ spair. He put himself “into the hands of the Captain,” but could not justify himself because there were no modes for doing so in that republic. 11 is friends, who were most of the “great men” and among those desiring revolution, became indignant; and the affair “for this and for other similar causes” grew so much that the ruin of the republic followed. “The ruin of the republic” w as the coming to power of Cosimo de’ Medici in 1434, the central event of Machiavelli’s Florentine Histories.62 The unfortunate Messer Giovanni was the victim of a nameless calumniator. He was unable to justify himself by showing that his apparent bad government 62. Mansfield, “Party and Sect in Machiavelli’s Florentine Historiespp. 211-219. Guicciardini points out correctly and unimaginatively that Cosimo was not brought to power and Giovanni Guicciardini not brought dow n by calumnies, but he overlooks NM’s mention of “other similar causes.”

62 I 8

BOOK I

was only bad luck, and he was unable to accuse his calumniator. We may suppose that these two facts are connected, that the truth did not come out because no one was forced to take responsibility for accusing him. 1 o accuse means to put one’s own credit behind a charge, as opposed to the calumniator who reports what he has heard or what others have seen; in staking his own credit, the accuser cannot excuse himself by the malice of fortune that made him messenger of a false report. No one, it seems, was willing to take this responsi¬ bility against Messer Giovanni and to try to rise to greatness through accusa¬ tion. Perhaps there was no specific accuser because no specific accusation was possible. Although Messer Giovanni commanded the army, he was only “com¬ missioner”; he was not a captain in charge with full powers, nor was he a dictator. Indeed, it was not to the people but before the Captain that Messer Giovanni, on the verge of ultimate despair, tried vainly to justify himself. But with a divided command, as with a calumny, to distinguish between bad gov¬ ernment and bad fortune is impossible. Messer Giovanni’s excuses would have been as worthless as the calumnies of which he was the victim, for not being in charge, he could always escape the charge of bad government with the excuse of bad fortune. Calumnies are bad, therefore, because and when they blame men regardless of their good or bad government, but they are useful when they force men, as individuals, to accept responsibility for good government. In accepting this responsibility men of ambition necessarily take a risk that their fortune will be good, that the siege will be successful, or if unsuccessful, that the resulting accusation will fail. This is a risk for accuser and accused, because both cannot succeed, but on the whole, the result of forcing individuals to accept responsibil¬ ity for good government, and therefore for good fortune, is to reduce the power of fortune in human affairs. For an accusation to be both true and useful, it must be the case that men can take command of bad fortune with good government. The system of which accusation is a part, the “modes” lacking in Florence for justifying oneself, will be explained in the rest of Book I. At the end Machiavelli concludes for the first time that Manlius was a calum¬ niator, not accuser, because only now has the difference been explained. Man¬ lius made a charge against “private citizens” that was in a sense public because he did not disguise himself as its author, but not 4n the necessary sense public until he was forced to take public responsibility for naming a specific culprit. In his example the two definitions of accusation converge to a single event at which the private charge becomes public and the false charge is made refutable. Machiavelli says the Romans showed in this very case how calumniators should be punished. What the Romans showed is that one should make them become accusers, and when the accusation comes out true, reward or not punish them; when it is not true, they should be punished as Manlius was punished. That is, Manlius should be put in prison as Machiavelli here says he was punished, not thrown off the Capitol as in fact he was punished. It is Machiavelli who makes the accusation of “Manlius” come out true.

FOUNDERS AND THEIR REPUTATION

3. I 9

Founders and Their Reputation (I 9-10)

Machiavelli begins the ninth chapter with the remark that some might think he had gone too far in Roman history without mentioning the “orderers” of that republic and the “orders” regarding religion and “militia.” These “orderers” are quickly resolved into one founder, for it is necessary that he “be alone” to order a republic anew. Religion is not discussed until the next section of chapters, 11-15, anti “militia” is the subject of Book 11; so the subject matter of chapters 16-60 is left unidentified.1 The title promises to show how it is necessary to be alone if one wishes to order a republic anew or to reform it altogether outside its old orders. In the body of the chapter Machiavelli shows how it is possible to be alone, considering that a founder has successors and predecessors: for how can a founder be alone if his successors will reform his orders altogether and if his predecessor was the one who ordered anew? In considering this question one must not stop short of the problem of a divine or human founder. So as not to leave the spirits of his dissatisfied readers in suspense, for Machiavelli seems to allow some reason in their dissatisfaction arising perhaps from the theoretical interlude of 1 2-8, he returns to the subject of beginnings and says that the founder, exemplified not as the foreign Aeneas but as the native Romulus (I 1) must “be alone.” What is it to “be alone”? The answer is more than forthright; to be alone is to be w illing to commit fratricide when the end is to found “civil life.” “Many will judge” Romulus’ killing his brother a bad example, but “a wise contriver [ingegno savio| w ill never reproach anyone for an extraordinary action used to order a kingdom or constitute a republic.” Romulus’ “extraordinary action” happens to be the original crime, as distin¬ guished from the original sin, of the Bible,2 but Machiavelli does not rest w ith this example. He adds the charge that Romulus afterwards “consented to” the death of Titus I atius, his companion in authority, an accusation or calumny that builds on a less damning hint of Livy’s.3 And at the end of the chapter he brings up the action of Cleomenes, the reorderer of Sparta who “took a conven¬ ient occasion and killed all the Ephors and everyone else who could oppose him.” These examples of extraordinary actions, presented without anguish or even solemnity, seem intended to shock the reader as they shocked the observer. The dictum “Where the act accuses, the effect excuses” refers, as has been seen in I 4, to the impressiveness as well as to the utility of the effect. We remark that an extraordinary effect can excuse the “accusation” of an act when it produces a new ordering. After discussing accusations in general in the preceding two chapters, Machiavelli turns to an accusation against founders in particular. Since his defense of founders says that the effect excuses, must we not apply it 1. S., p. 312n24. 2. St. Augustine, De civitate Dei XV 5. 3. Livy, I 14. 2-3.

oth could claim divine favor.6 Machiavelli does not mention these nonviolent methods of “being alone”—by precedence of birth or by divine favor. The founder shows he is “prudent and virtuous” not by avoiding violence, but by giving authority, after having seized it, over to the “many” to maintain, as Romulus gave over most of his authority to the Senate. The “many” are not apt at ordering a thing because of the diverse opinions among them, w e are told. This “many” does not seem to be the many ignobles who desire only not to be dominated (I 5), but rather the many rivals whom the prince must push aside or whom Machiavelli must instruct in his orders, that is, in the reforming of them “altogether anew.” Romulus reserved only the command of his armies and the convoking of the Senate for himself (something after all!) so that after the expulsion of the Tarquins, the only innovation was two annual consuls in place of a perpetual (?) king—which testifies that the first orders of the city were more conformable to a civil and free life than to an absolute and tyrannical one. They w ere conform¬ able to both ways of life, but w ith a change from a perpetual king to nonhereditary consuls, orders appropriate to a kingdom were made fit for a republic. In this chapter Machiavelli seems to understand republic most generally as nonhereditary rule w hich is therefore human and for the common good of the common fatherland, this world. His authority differs from divine authority because he allows his “successors” also to have authority alone. Machiavelli puts aside countless examples of the “things w ritten above,” such 5. This is the answer to Guicciardini’s doubt that the founder need not be moved by his own ambition. 6. Livy, I 6. 4-7. 3. Romulus and Remus had of course been denied their just inheritance by birth.

&> I 9

BOOK I

as Moses, Lycurgus and Solon, who are well known, and adduces only one, not so celebrated: the example of Cleomenes, who succeeded Agis as king in Sparta. Agis had attempted to lead the Spartans back to the laws of Lycurgus—who is not put aside after all—since Agis thought that his city had lost its “ancient virtue” (compare I pr.); but Agis had been killed by the Ephors for seeking to become a tyrant. Cleomenes found certain “records and writings” left by Agis in which “his mind and intention” could be seen, and as it appeared to Cleomenes that because of the ambition of men he could not be useful to many against the will of the few, he had all the Ephors killed, secured sole authority, and entirely renewed the laws of Lycurgus. He would have achieved the reputation of Lycurgus if he had succeeded, but he was attacked by the Macedonians and defeated. Machiavelli then concludes that Romulus deserves excuse and not blame for the death of Remus and Titus Tatius. Romulus is excused, we see, by means of the example of Cleomenes in which it is made clear that the “ambition of men” amounts to the “will of the few” even when they are representatives of the people,7 because the few always behave in the manner of the few (I 7). As Cleomenes’ Ephors are comparable to Romulus’ Senate, we infer that the foun¬ der must contrive to have the will of the few maintain his orders through many generations. He can use their ambition to make himself alone, and the “mode” for doing so, reflecting his mind as it inspires his orders, is his writing. Machiavelli ignores the records and writings of Moses and invents those of Agis, w hich are not mentioned by Plutarch. The writer can inspire many— many founders as well as many peoples—and not suffer the troubles of either. While the many who give reputation are not skilled in ordering a thing “through not knowing its good, caused by the diverse opinions that are among them,” the writer know s and has one opinion; and w hile the many founders are subject to vicissitudes as w as Cleomenes, defeated by the “power of the Macedonians and the weakness of the other Greek republics,” the writer is as secure as his book.

I 10

“To be alone” in authority means to understand and to write, and in this situation the w riter has w hat Machiavelli recommends for the founder, a neces¬ sary identity of the public and his private interest. Machiavelli moves from excuse to praise in 1 10, in which he promises to show “how7 the founders of a republic or a kingdom are as praiseworthy as those of a tyranny are blameworthy.” “Kingdom” is added as the domain of a founder by comparison with the title of I 9, but also in accordance w ith the concern for succession revealed in that chapter. We see now that it is not enough for the founder to be alone; if his founding is to last, he must be praised and therefore must accept the ranking by which men praise. To be alone it would seem necessary to be on top. Yet after indicating how the sole founder might also be the most praised human being, Machiavelli as it were resigns the honor on behalf of the founder. 7. The popular part of the Spartan regime was not mentioned in 1 5-6.

FOUNDERS AND THEIR REPUTATION

67

The chapter begins with a rank list of five kinds of men who are praised and their opposites.8 Among all praised men, the most praised are “heads and orderers of religions.” Next and afterward are those who have founded repub* lies or kingdoms, the founders of I 9 who are now decidedly second. T hey might rise to the top in praise if they could contrive through some “extraordi¬ nary action” to make themselves heads and orderers of religions, but Machiavelli does not discuss religion in this chapter. While hinting that the founder might rise to the top, he also suggests that he who bows to human praise must also bow to men’s gods. As most men praise other men on the basis of religion, their praise promotes men by demoting man. The last category of those who are blamed are enemies of the arts that bring “utility and honor to the human ^^nLM'aittTnr^l^neihics of the virtues are blamed, but the virtuous are not praised C as such because it is doubtful thattWtues as suchpcomparcd to arts, are an aid to the human good. Machiavelli lists sTxTatfrerTTian five kinds of blame, the first being “impious,” which in the speech of the godly comprehends all other faults. There is reason, then, for the founder not to become quite dependent on praise. To be alone it is necessary not to be on top, and this intent, if accomplished in fact, will excuse the founder for being alone. We note that the “literary men,” who are celebrated each one according to his rank, “are joined” to those put in charge of armies who have increased their kingdom or that of their fatherland. Perhaps Machiavelli can be alone by using the praise that goes to captains of armies, in alliance with them or by putting them in charge. Now no one is so foolish or so wise, so bad or so good as not to praise what is to be praised and not to blame what is to be blamed; yet in the end almost all those praised, deceived by a false good and by a false glory, let themselves go voluntarily or ignorantly into the ranks of those w ho merit more blame than praise. Although they might have the perpetual honor of founding a republic or kingdom, they turn to tyranny. I luman praise is not w rong but it is ineffectual with those who are praised. In particular it appears they do not realize the security and quiet w ith “satisfaction of mind” they might have. Machiavelli, recovering his ability to name praised men who are not tyrants, mentions sev¬ eral they would see who “in their fatherlands” had no less authority than the tyrants and far more security, while basking in praise. To see these men it is necessary to read histories and take profit from ancient things; but then we are told that we must not be deceived by the glory of Caesar, who was “greatly celebrated by the w riters.” Those writers were corrupted by his fortune and terrified by the duration of the empire that ruled under his name and that did not permit writers to speak freely of him. Would Machiavelli have said this if he had chosen to speak of founders of religion in this chapter? Here is a tyrant whose fame was secure by virtue of the interest of the rulers who succeeded him.yBut Machiavelli also says 8. There are thirteen kinds of men if the founders of republics and kingdoms are counted separately.

68

I 10

BOOK I

that “free writers’’ got around the power of his name by attacking his predeces¬ sor Catiline and by praising his enemy Brutus. While incidentally divulging-two techniques of a free writer in an unfree regime, Machiavelli makes us consider whether a free writer could write in the interest of the regime that would ensure his fame. If such a one could assure himself the good fortune of Caesar and the duration of Caesar’s fame by writing in the interests of the rulers to follow him, for those who deserve to be princes (see the Dedicatory Letter), he could make his own praise. He would have a true good and a true glory. Machiavelli then strangely asks “him who has become prince in a republic” to consider how' much praise was more deserved by the good emperors than by the the bad ones after Rome became an empire. He does not require this putative Caesar not to found an empire and to remain a prince in a republic,9 but instead he must look ahead to the lives of emperors to follow, and Machiavelli shows him w hat “he will see” (vedra, repeated thirteen times) of the security of his own glory in the security of his successors. Such a history “well considered” would instruct any prince, for of twenty-six emperors from Caesar to Maximus (Caesar an emperor?), sixteen were killed and ten died “ordinarily.” Of the sixteen, those that were good such as Galba and Pertinax were killed by the corruption left by their predecessor, and if among those who died ordinarily some were wicked, such as Severus, this arose from his very great fortune and virtue, w hich few men have. Machiavelli dwells on Severus in chapter nineteen of The Prince, perhaps the “history” that he imagines here. Then he tells us that all the wicked emperors except one succeeded to empire through heredity and those who got it by adoption were all good. Putting these two facts together, the reader is arrested by the horrifying thought that a w icked emperor who was killed makes possible the adoption of his successor w ho is likely to be good. To die “ordinarily” leaving an hereditary succession is not for the common good,10 and the prince in a republic con¬ templating Caesar’s empire might conclude that its succession could be im¬ proved w ith a rejection of the hereditary principle w ithout losing the glory of an empire under his name. In the empire parallel to Caesar’s the problem was solved by an act of renunciation displayed in an extraordinary death which nonetheless secured a succession of empire.11 Machiavelli goes~on to contrast the regimes of the good emperors and those of the bad, describing them in the tones of a sermon as if they were heaven and hell on earth. This contrast of regimes is resolved into the contrast between Caesar and Romulus w ith w hich the chapter ends. “And truly a prince seeking glory in the world should desire to possess a corrupt city not to destroy it entirely like Caesar but to reorder it like Romulus.” j j

»■

9. Cf. Whitfield, Discourses on Machiavelli, p. 73; W., II 26. 10. An emperor could adopt his successor before dying, as some did, but then what is to be done w ith the natural son? S., pp. 52, 227; W., II 30. 11. Cf. Guicciardini ad loc., near the end; Aristotle, Politics 1286b 27-28.

THE USE OF RELIGION

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This sharp contrast begins to disappear as it is examined, and is lost in the sequel. If Romulus’ new ordering is a reordering that presupposes crime and violence, is it so opposed to Caesar’s destroying, which also led to a reordering? Caesar w as a tyrant w ho, by the power of the regime that afterward ruled in his name, could force men to praise him; Romulus w as a founder w ho, as Livy but not Machiavelli tells us, w as made a god. It seems that when a founder is like a god he can make himself the source and the basis of praise. Viewed in this way the founder of a city is the same thing as the founder of a religion, an identity w hich would explain the fact, according to Machiavelli, that founders of religion receive the highest praise, but (as he now says) the “heavens” allow no greater occasion for glory than reordering a corrupt city. To be alone, then, means to be above praise like a god. Gods do not praise men; they excuse them. Machiavelli, after moving from excuse in chapter nine to praise at the beginning of chapter ten, returns now to excuse, and gives “some excuse” to princes who could not order a city without falling from rank, but no excuse to the prince who could keep his rank and order a city. Thus the prince of chapter nine who was excused for the necessity of being alone is now denied excuse in case it is possible for him to keep his rank. There is, then, no excuse, l>ecause the basis of excuse is the harmony of ambition and the common good.12 Such harmony w as denied by the tradition of classical political science, and Aristotle defined as a tyrant the man who aims at the common good only when it coincides with his private good,13 the same man Machiavelli excuses as a founder and refuses to excuse unless he is a founder. W ho is he? At the end Machiavelli says that those to whom the heavens grant such an opportunity have two w ays before them: one of living securely and in glory after death, the other of living in continual anguish followed by sempiternal infamy. 1 le seems to have forgotten the ordi¬ nary founder w ho wants glory while he is alive and takes risks for it with his afterlife, whether in heaven or on earth.

4.

The Use of Religion (I 11-15)

After founders, Machiavelli turns to religion. From the praise of the founder who reorders a corrupt city at the end of I 10, one would not be surprised to find the discussion of corruption with which I 16, the first chapter of the next section, begins. Rut five chapters on religion do not seem to continue the theme of founding, even though the first of them, entitled “Of the religion of the Romans,” provides a transition by considering founders of religion, such as Numa, and also founders of cities as having “recourse to God.” We have seen that Machiavelli excuses founders for their extraordinary actions; so we know 12. Whitfield interprets NM’s excuse for Cesare Borgia in P. 17 (not called an excuse) in the light of his excuse for Romulus here. Or should one look at Romulus in the light of Borgia? Discourses on Machiavelli, p. 160. 13. Aristotle, Politics 1311a 2-4; cf. 12791) 5, 1295a 17-24.

10

I 11

BOOK I

that they may be excused and need to be excused. Now a founder who could excuse himself would be the most independent of founders, the most alone, the truest founder. Since it is in terms of religion that men excuse founders, the highest founder would be the founder of a religion, as Machiavelli says. But in founding a religion is he truly alone? For with religion men assert that they are not alone but are bound to a higher intelligence or to higher intelligibles. Reli¬ gion presents itself in contrast to founding, yet it must be appropriated for use in counterpoint to it, which Machiavelli proceeds to do in I 11-15 and through the rest of Book I. The question about the status of founders of cities and of religions involves the relative status of cities and religions, and hence the status of man. “Of the religion of the Romans” is a title ambiguous between ancient and modern Romans, and it introduces a chapter on religion that does not distin¬ guish between ancient and modern religion. Machiavelli speaks of the “fear of God” established in the Roman republic by Numa, using “God” throughout in place of “the gods,” and he quotes Dante and refers to the example of Savonarola for the use of religion without regard to the difference between pagan and Christian religion. We find the explanation for this failure to dis¬ criminate in the “one same order” asserted at the end of the chapter, the presup¬ position that guarantees that it is possible to imitate the ancients. Although Rome had to recognize that it was the daughter of its first orderer Romulus, Machiavelli begins, yet the heavens judged that Romulus’ orders would not suffice for such an empire, and so inspired the Roman Senate with the thought of electing Numa his successor. Nothing is said of Romulus’ being inspired, nor of any Roman obligation to “the heavens.” It appears that the heavens judge what is possible for men and make this judgment available to men (compare the end of I 10), but they do not deserve the gratitude owing to a parent who is responsible for his daughter’s birth and education. Numa, finding a “very ferocious people” and wishing to reduce it to civil obedience with the arts of peace, turned to religion as a thing altogether necessary if he wished to maintain civilization (civilta)\ but he also facilitated whatever enterprise the Senate and “those great Roman men” designed to undertake. For Roman citi¬ zens, whether acting together as a people or for themselves, feared to break their oath more than the laws, since they esteemed the power of God more than that of men. Two examples are given of such fear and esteem. In the first, the people are forced to swear to fight for their fatherland by Scipio, who went to them with drawn sword; and in the second, an accuser is forced to withdraw his accusation against a father by the son, who also threatened to kill unless an oath was sworn, which it was “through fear,” Machiavelli specifies. When Livy discusses Numa’s “arts of peace,” he contrasts them with Romulus’ arts of war, but Machiavelli makes the two not only complementary but continuous.1 In his 1. Livy, I 21. 5.

THE USE OF RELIGION

Ill

71

treatment of religion, the power of God is invoked to defend the paternal element of parenthood with forced oaths, and the maternal side of “mother Nature” is overlooked. It is true that Rome, the fatherland, is also said to be a daughter, but only of a human father. Civilization, it appears, is imposed by forced oaths to God.2 In the examples Machiavelli almost equates defense of the fatherland by a citizen with defense of a father by his son. As the former reminds us of ancient religion and the latter of modern religion, we are given a hint of the difference in religion being neglected, which has to do with the identity of father and fatherland being assumed. Concerning the latter example, Livy says it was laudable “not for its civil example but for its piety,” a mislead¬ ing remark in this chapter, which began by according recognition to the father of the fatherland, and thus assuming that father and fatherland can be defended together.3 It is surely questionable that they can, and therefore questionable that oaths should be kept more than laws. Machiavelli says that in a debate on the prince to whom Rome was more obliged, Romulus or Numa, “I believe” Numa would get the first rank. As opposed to “judging” what is possible, “believing” is the assertion or acceptance of status. Numa would come first because where there is religion, it is easy to introduce arms, but where there are arms, and not religion, it is difficult to introduce religion. This formulation reveals the possibility of having arms with¬ out religion, and Machiavelli says next that Romulus, unlike Numa, did not need religion to support his own authority. Numa pretended to be familiar (avere domestichezza) with a nymph w ho advised him w hat he should advise the people,4 and this because he w ished to introduce new and unaccustomed orders in the city and feared his own authority would not suffice. It was womanly authority, not womanly advice, that he sought. “And truly there never w as any ordererof extraordinary law s in a people that did not have recourse to God, for otherwise they would not he accepted.” Machiavelli gives the reason for this clearly and gently: “because many goods are known by a prudent one which do not have in themselves evident reasons with w hich to persuade others.” This reason w hy “wise men” have recourse to God elevates their prudence above the religion they recommend to the less perceptive. Lycurgus and Solon are cited but not Numa, for it now appears that he had the easy task of introducing religion in times “full of religion,” so that he could easily impress “any new form whatever.”3 Whoever wished to make a republic in present times would find it easier to work with rude mountaineers than w ith a corrupt, civilized people, as a sculptor can make a beautiful statue more easily w ith unworked marble than with a piece badly blocked out by someone else.6 2. In I 11 Dio occurs seven times, and giurare seven times; religione occurs an additional eight times. 3. Livy, VII 5. 2; cf. D. Ill 22. 4. Cf. Livy, 119. 5. 5. NM here anticipates Guicciardini’s criticism in loc. 6. Cf. the fragment of an ancient statue, I pr.; NM has a difficult task in reworking Livy.

72 I 11

BOOK I

Considering everything, Machiavelli concludes that Numa’s religion was among the first causes of Rome’s happiness, because it caused good orders, which produced good fortune in successful enterprises. Observance of the divine cult is the cause of greatness in republics, and contempt of it the cause of ruin, apparently regardless of the religion; and then Machiavelli says that fear of a prince can supply the lack of religion in a kingdom. He quotes Dante to the effect that God does not often allow human virtue to be passed along through heredity. While Dante says that God does this to make men pray for virtue, Machiavelli merely opposes hereditary succession.7 He suggests the possibility of a republic or a kingdom which one prince could order so that he could maintain it even after he was dead. Although rude men can be more easily persuaded to a new order or opinion, civilized men too can be restored from corruption, as is attested by the example of Savonarola, who reordered the people of Florence. To itself that people “does not appear to be either ignorant or rude,” yet they were persuaded by him that he spoke with God.8 Machiavelli does not wish to judge whether this was true, or not, because of such a man one should speak with reverence, but he notes that countless men believed Savonarola without having seen anything extraordinary to make them believe him; but his life, his doctrine, and the subject he took up were sufficient. Savonarola’s example suggests how, not only that, a corrupt people may be reordered. Even now, after he is dead, Machiavelli speaks of him with rev¬ erence, as there is something in the combination of his life, learning, and subject that maintains his orders without an hereditary succession. The Florentine people never saw anything extraordinary, but they heard many extraordinary things to make them believe him by putting them in fear of God or of himself as prince or of both together. The possibility of reordering a civilized people (in Machiavelli’s beautiful definition) reminds us of the greater glory of reordering a corrupt people at the end of I 10. At the end of this chapter Machiavelli reas¬ sures us that no one should fear that he cannot obtain what others have ob¬ tained, and recalling his preface, he says that men “are born, live and die always with one same order.” This “one same order” embraces human government and divine, binding them in “religion,” which Machiavelli says was among the first causes of Rome’s happiness. But in I 4 he said that Rome’s tumults, and its disorders were the first cause of its freedoms, reflecting the natural diversity among men and between men and things. “One-same-ordeF:-does-noJ exist, but men swear to it nut of fear and to create reverence and quiet. Machiavelli uses the “one same order” to persuade his listeners of a “new order and opinion.” In the next four chapters on religion Machiavelli begins to explain the diffi¬ culty of innovation in modern times by showing the difference between ancient 7. Dante, Purgatorio VII, 121-123. S., p. 227. 8. Cf. Savonarola’s comment on the “subtle spirits” of the Florentines, Trattato circa il reggimento e governo della Citta di Firenze, in Prediche sopra Aggeo, ed. Luigi Firpo (Rome, 1965), p. 470. See also Cicero, De republica II 10. 18.

THE USE OF RELIGION

I 12

75

and modern religion. In the title of 112 two topics are announced: “Of how much importance it is to take account of religion and how Italy, by lacking it because of the Roman church, has been ruined.” As the first topic is illustrated from the ancients, we are presented with a contrast between ancient veneration of religion and ntodern contempt for it, leading to political unity among the ancients and disunity among the moderns. But also suggested is that the unify¬ ing grasp of Roman imperialism caused the disunity of modern Italy. When Machiavelli says “how much” religion was important, one must not assume that his meaning is “infinitely” or “very much”; it can be “this much and no more.”9 If religion is incapable of producing unity, then to venerate it is not enough, and its importance is restricted to its use. Machiavelli first states that princes and republics w ishing to maintain them¬ selves uncorrupt must above all maintain the ceremonies of their religion uncor¬ rupt. Then he says that one can know whether the cult is maintained w hen one knows the foundation of the religion where a man is born, “for ev ery religion has the foundation of its life in some principal order of its own,” for example the responses of oracles and the sect of diviners and augurers10 in the Cientile religion. The foundation is thus the interpreters, not the ceremonies, w hich are now said to depend on them, and is to be known from the place where a man is Ixirn, not from the time when he is born. We might suppose that since man is born on earth (see I 10), the foundation of religion unites man with other men; and we do find that “the Cientile religion” of the Romans transcends or crosses political boundaries. Indeed, the Romans promoted religion for the sake of unity. They believed that “that God” which can foretell for you your future good and your future evil can also give them.to you. But since your good and your God are your ow n, the good of mankind as a whole could be advanced only Hv accepting many gods. In recommending this policy Machiavelli shows that the powerful must forbear from imposing their gods or their interpretation on all, but instead maintain the “foundations” (now plural) of religion, and that princes should support all things favorable to religion even when they judge them false. The more prudent they are and the better know ers otTatural things, the more they should do this, for this mode is “observed” by wise men. That is, w ise men “observe” natural things in the “one same order” of religion in order to make men “observe” religion in the sense of “obey.” For example, w hen some Roman soldiers, having captured an Etruscan tem¬ ple of Juno, asked the goddess “do you wish to come to Rome?”11 and someone thought she nodded, another thought she said yes, “Camillus and the other princes of the city” magnified this belief and encouraged their credulity. To 9. “How much” occurs in the titles of seventeen chapters of the Discourses, none of them in Book Ill, where “one” occurs frequently; S., p. 316n40. 10. NM specifies auruspici, priests introduced from the Etruscan religion; Livy, V 15. 1; Cicero, De divinatione I 2; S., p. 317. 11. S., p. 109.

74

I 12

BOOK I

keep us in mind of the fundamental question, Machiavelli amplifies a remark of Livy’s and says that the soldiers entered the temple “without tumult” and full of reverence: for the foundation of credulity is the belief in “one same order” which secures the human good. And to suggest that Roman religion was an instrument of Roman imperialism, he reminds us of other foreign gods the Romans ab¬ sorbed. Now, if religion of this kind had been maintained by the “princes of the Christian republic,” then “Christian states and republics” would be more united. But the sign of decline is that those peoples closest to the head of “our religion,” the Roman church, have least religion, and its present use is so far from its foundations that it may be judged near to ruin or flagellation.12 “Our religion,” judged Ty--t4*f*~^.indird nf “religion” generically, is implied to be sound in its foundations (for having the same tendency to unify as the “religion of the Romans”) but is said to be harmful in its present use by the Roman church for two very powerful reasons that occur to Machiavelli. The first is that for the “wicked examples of that court,” “this province” (all Italy?) has lost “all devotion and all religion”—surely an exaggeration of the statement above. For, he says, where there is religion one presupposes every¬ thing good, and where it is lacking, one presupposes the contrary. This is not to say that where there are wicked examples, one presupposes lack of religion; and the presupposition of good from religion also reminds us of the magnification of credulity by wise men. Machiavelli’s second and “still greater” reason is his well-known indictment of the Church as too weak to “seize the tyranny” of Italy and, through its ability to summon aid to itself, too strong to allow any other to occupy Italy. The premise of the indictment is: “And truly no province was ever united or happy if it did not come under the sway of one republic or one prince, as happened to France and to Spain.”13 Machiavelli speaking for Italians adds a republican alternative to his exhortation for unity in the last chapter of The Prince, suggesting a possible identity of interest between Florence and Italy under its sway,14 but it is clear that uniting the Christian republic of Italy will not unite the Christian republic as a whole. Machiavelli ends the chapter mischievously with his famous suggestion of putting the pope in Switzerland, where one can find the only people today that in religion and military orders lives according to the ancients. Whoever wished “to see through certain experience” that this indictment is true would have to have the power to do this, and then he would see the disorders brought by the “bad customs of that court.” To have this power would be to have the power to perform a miracle, but no one should fear that he cannot obtain what others have obtained. If some of Machiavelli’s soldiers, having captured Rome, should 12. W., II 34. 13. Two instances of “And truly ...” at the end of I 10 correspond with the two instances in I 11 and 112. 14.

1 his is questioned by Guicciardini, perhaps on the basis of D. II 2.

THE USE OF RELIGION

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I 12

come reverently to the pope and ask him whether he wishes to go to Switzer¬ land, would they see him nod and hear him say yes? Whereas the Romans issued an invitation, Machiavelli suggests an expulsion, for the Roman policy of bringing all gods to Rome created by simple addition the God who could foretell and accomplish everyone’s good. This omnipotent God justified the Roman esteem of oaths over laws, and established one official interpreter for the entire Christian republic: if he were now put in Switzerland, one could cure all modern corruption "-because one would learn how the ancients were corrupted—not by too little but by too much religion.

I 13

The central chapter of this section is on the use the Romans made of religion in reordering the city, carrying on enterprises, and stopping tumults. Machiavelli gives one example for each use, the first two examples being two events of the same incident related in such a way that the use of religion in domestic affairs is kept separate from its use in foreign affairs. The nobility used portents to frighten the plebs into choosing nobles as tribunes: this was the domestic “reordering,” as we would say a Reaction~\nd the Roman captains at this time (though Machiavelli does not say when) also used portents to give their soldiers “hope” of capturing a city they were besieging: the use of religion to keep the plebs “disposed to an enterprise.” Though the soldiers' hope may have been useful or necessary (according to Livy it came from Camillus’ appoint¬ ment, not from religion),15 it was Camillus w ho captured the city and it was the Senate to whom their religion was useful. Machiavelli indicates that the foreign enterprise might have served as well in occupying the plebs as the domestic maneuver in quieting it. I le does not conceal the partisan intent behind the use of religion by the “Romans” in these examples, and at the end of the chapter speaks only of its value to the “Senate.'"Hn the third example (also ancient) he makes partisanship the theme. The tribune Terentillus proposed certain laws against the nobility, who defended themselves first by finding a useful predic¬ tion in the Sibylline books and second by using an oath sworn to recover the Capitol from enemies for the purpose of suppressing the Terentillan law. In both cases the nobles’ interpretation was hotly and unsuccessfully contested by the tribunes. Religion can be used because it can be interpreted; and since it can be interpreted, it is open to partisan use. The partisan conflict between nobles and plebs was not between two sides of partisans, as one might have thought from the debate in I 5. It was a struggle between nobles and tribunes for the control of the plebs, a struggle won or controlled by the nobles for as long as the Roman republic remained uncorrupt. In the relation between religion and par¬ ties, we have an analogy: the city uses religion as the nobles manage the plebs. One can infer, then, that religion was no longer useful to the city or that religion used the city when the nobles could no longer manage the plebs. Suppose that the tribunes, w ho Machiavelli (but not Livy16) says exposed the 15. Livy, V 19. 3. 16. Ibid., Ill 10. 7.

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BOOK I

predictions from the Sibylline books, were able to establish an authoritative book of their own. As regards the oath, the nobles maintained that it was sworn to the office, not the man, and so continued in force after the death of the man. Suppose that this argument succeeded too well, and that oaths were sworn to plebeian offices, for election to which the nobles could no longer manipulate the plebs. This oath was exacted by a “grave citizen of authority,” whom Machiavelli calls Publius Ruberius, to get the plebs to expel a multitude of exiles and slaves who had occupied the Capitol. According to Livy, he drew his sword like the Romans in I 11,17 but Machiavelli says that he used words “partly loving, partly menacing.” Since his name cannot be found in Livy, it might be well to adopt Leo Strauss’s suggestion and translate it into Italian18—and then suppose that he might have been in alliance with the multitude of exiles and slaves. Machiavelli makes his first quotation of Livy the famous lament, from Livy’s own time which Livy thought corrupt, for the “ancient religion” and its political uses. But Machiavelli points out that the ancient religion procured only a year’s truce in the dispute between the tribunes and the consuls, and one wonders whether the ancient religion did not have corruption in its principle if it could not permanently restrain the tribunes. We remark that Machiavelli’s quotation of Livy parallels his own discussion of Christianity in I 12, as if he were attempt¬ ing to explain the corruption of his time and to put the Roman court not among those most resembling the ancients today but among the ancients.

114

114 and I 15 are connected with I 13 by the question of who interprets reli¬ gion, and with each other in a way not immediately apparent. In I 14 two comic examples are to be found, one (to quote from the title) of “interpreting the auspices according to necessity,” indeed of “prudently making a show of observ¬ ing religion, when forced not to observe it,” and another of a captain, who “rashly disdained it” and was punished by the Romans. We see from the title alone that religion not only can be interpreted but also can be ignored if not disdained, and that rulers may “use it well” merely by making a show of observing it. The auguries, Machiavelli begins, were not only “the foundation in good part” of the ancient religion of the Gentiles but also the “cause of the well-being of the Roman republic.” Though the Romans used auguries “in every important action of theirs, whether civil or military,” Machiavelli gives three examples in the next two chapters of such use by captains before battles, in which the Gentile religion common to the Romans and their enemies could not have caused the well-being of both. He shifts from the struggle among captains for control of the army and from that between nobles and tribunes for control of the plebs to the struggle between captains and priests for control of the army. To illustrate how the Romans followed reason even when it opposed the 17. Ibid., Ill 17. 7. 18. S., pp. 109-110, 317n58; cf. W., II 38-39.

THE USE OF RELIGION

I 14

77

auspices and yet not so as to show “contempt for religion,” he tells of an incident concerning the chicken-men, priests who divined the auspices according to the behavior of chickens under their care. W hen the chickens ate, the Romans fought with good auspices; when they did not, the Romans abstained. They took a risk of inactivity no greater than the chance of unhungry chickens, but Machiavelli lets us know that the assumption of religion, the “one same order,” implies the coordination of the human good with the good of chickens. It is no wonder that religion can conflict with reason. Once when the consul Papirius wished to fight an important battle against the Samnites, he commanded the chicken-men to take the auspices, but the chick¬ ens would not eat. Nevertheless “the prince of the chicken-men,” believing he knew w hat was required of him, reported to the consul that they had eaten and the auspices were favorable. Before the battle some of the chicken-men began a rumor that the chickens had not eaten, which some of the soldiers told to Spurius Papirius, nephew of the consul. I le then reported it to the consul, who denounced it as a lie. The consul had the chicken-men placed in the front of the battle, and “by chance” the prince of the chicken-men w as killed by a Roman javelin, whereupon the consul announced that the army w as purged of every fault and of all the gods’ wrath by the death of that liar.19 What happened by chance was interpreted as divine intervention, or rather, w hat happened by human intervention w as interpreted as divine. Why was the prince of the chicken-men killed even though he made the correct interpretation? It was not his office (ufficio) to be prudent, as the consul prudently recognized.20 After this model of respect for religion comes the contrary example of con¬ tempt. Appius Pulcher, in the same situation as Papirius, when the chickens would not eat, said “see if they w ill drink!” and had them thrown into the ocean. He lost the battle, whereas Papirius won, but Machiavelli says he w as con¬ demned at Rome not so much for losing the battle as for having gone against the

I 15

auspices “boldly” rather than “prudently” like Papirius, who was honored. With his condemnation the Romans apparently avoided that ruin w hich accord¬ ing to 112 was bound to come to a province w here religion is seen to be disdained. But then how could Papirius be honored for success in making a show of observing religion? Perhaps the danger of open disdain for religion has been overstated. Appius’ example is contrary to that of Papirius in one direc¬ tion, but we are not show n examples of too much respect for religion or of modern religion. These come in the example of the follow ing chapter by impli¬ cation. Not only Romans, but “foreigners” used religion to make their soldiers go confidently into battle, for example the Samnites. As an “extreme remedy” for an almost hopeless condition they used religion to fill the spirits of their soldiers 19. S., p. 110. 20. If acting prudently, he would have been another Papirius, or perhaps a Spurius Papirius. Cf. Guicciardini in loc.

78

I 15

BOOK I

with “obstinacy.” They ordered an ancient sacrifice of theirs with the aid of their priest so that each soldier was summoned before the slain animals and required to swear to the gods, before drawn swords, first that he would not repeat what he had seen or heard here, and then that he would go where the commanders (imperatori) sent him, would never abandon the fight, would kill anyone who did—and if he did not, it would come back on the head of his family and tribe. When some of them did not wish to swear, they were killed, and so the others, frightened by the ferocity of the spectacle, swore promptly. Then half the soldiers were dressed in white, “with crests and feathers above their helmets,” to go against Papirius at Aquilonia. Papirius, to comfort his soldiers, said that crests do not cause wounds,21 and that the terrible oath the enemy had taken put them in fear of citizens, gods, and enemies at the same time. Then in the battle the Samnites were defeated because Roman virtue and the fear conceived from their past defeats overcame the obstinacy put in them by religion. Still, it seemed to the Samnites that they had no other remedy from which they might take “hope” of recovering their lost virtue. “ Phis testifies in full how much confidence can be had by means of religion well used.” One can easily read through this chapter without realizing that the battle the Samnites lost, though using religion well, was the same one that Papirius won, through using religion well. But the connection is even closer. Machiavelli says that the Samnite soldiers carried crests and feathers above their helmets, while Livy mentions only crests (cristae). I his very small change points to the dif¬ ference between the Romans’ use of religion and that of the Samnites. With the Romans, the consul was in charge and he made religion accord with his reason. W ith the Samnites, the priest was not clearly subordinate, and religion was used in desperation and with uncertainty. Moreover, the Samnite oath offered no rewards and tried to generate hope of recovering lost virtue “by virtue of reli¬ gion” itself. It produced a powerful “obstinacy” (by which Livy was much less impressed than Machiavelli) as if, in the absence of hope of reward, the very fact of being religious could produce its own reward, but it did not generate Roman virtue in the Samnites. It may be suggested, then, that the Samnite priest in I 15 represents the “prince of the chicken-men” in 114, had he accomplished the scheme of ambition which the consul evidently feared from him. As a whole, however, Samnite religion, obstinate and yet without hope in this world, re¬ sembles the modern religion that Machiavelli criticizes for being too weak and too strong.22 It is no objection to this to say that Machiavelli calls the Samnites “foreigners” and that he says this “part” could have been placed with the discus¬ sion of “foreign things,” for “foreign” can mean foreign to this world as well as 21. At this point in the speech as related by Livy, Papirius offered the prospect of booty to the soldiers; Livy, X 39. 13. Manent, Naissances de la politique moderne, p. 34. 22. NM makes two small changes in Livy’s text at the beginning and the end of I 15. He places the “French” in the middle of a list of the Samnites’ three allies, and the “gods” in the middle of a list of the three powers which the Samnites feared; Livy, X 31. 13; 39. 17. Cf. Sidney Anglo, Machiavelli: A Dissection (New York, 1969), pp. 265-266.

LIVING UNDER A PRINCE

I 15

79

foreign to any land. Then the practices of a foreign army could he understood to explain those of the Roman Church. Machiavelli does not wish to divide “this matter,” namely, religion; earlier he had spoken of the Samnite religion as ordered in “this form.” By this conjunction he indicates that external matter is united to human things by the form of religion.

5. I 16

Living under a Prince (I 16-18)

The title of the next chapter announces another abrupt change of subject: “A people used to living under a prince, if by some accident it becomes free, w ill maintain its freedom with difficulty.” Countless examples in the records of ancient histories testify “how much difficulty” there is in maintaining freedom recently gained by “some accident” such as that by which the Romans gained theirs after the fall of the Tarquins. One difficulty regards the people and an¬ other the prince. Machiavelli says that a people used to li\ing under a prince is nothing but a briite animal of ferocious and savage nature w hich has, however, -alu aysTeen in prisqp ftpd in slavery. ILit is bv chance left free in a field, it does not know how to feed and where to hide, and becomes the prey of the first who seeks to rechain it. In such a people, having lost its capability to secure itself but not its natural ferocity, the “matter” is more or less “corrupt.” In I 16-18 Machiavelli considers corruption and how to overcome it, as if he had continued the contrast between Caesar and Romulus at the end of I 10. 1 le does not even mention the theme of the five preceding chapters, religion, al¬ though the observance or use of religion was presented there as “above every¬ thing else” (I 12) necessary for keeping a state uncorrupt. In this section corrup¬ tion is considered not from the standpoint of the people suffering it, as first seems to be the case, but from that of the prince trying to overcome it.1 And from this standpoint, one should view it not as lack Of'ewittit or of reverence to the gods but as the false sense of security in a wild brute that is naturally acquisitive but has become used to being fed and protected by others.2 To such a brute Machiavelli compares a people used to living under the governance of 1. 1'his standpoint might be thought to cast doubt on the hypothesis that the first eighteen chapters of the Discourses constitute the lengthy reasoning on republics to w hich N.Yl refers in the second chapter of The Prince. Felix Gilbert, “The Structure and Composition of Machiavelli’s Discorsi," Journal of the History of Ideas, 14 (1953), 136-156. Or does it suggest rather that NM w as getting ready to leave off w riting the Discourses and begin The Prince? Federico Chabod, Machiavelli and the Renaissance, David Moore, trans. (Cambridge, Mass., 1960), p. 38n. Or was the allusion in The Prince inserted later than 1513 (but w hy in 1516 necessarily?) so that it could refer to the entire Discourses? Hans Baron, “The Principe and the Puzzle of the Date of the DiscorsiBihliotheque d'humanisme et renaissance, 18 (1956), 405-428. Or did NM plan to w rite the Discourses w hen he w rote The Prince because he saw the need to say everything he knew in two different w ays? S., pp. 15-53. Faeh of these hypotheses requires a full and exact understanding of NM’s two major works, because the last one requires it. 2. Walker refers to Polybius VI 9. 9 at this point (11 40), but the reference is made significant only by the difference between Polybius and NM that it confirms. For Polybius the people become bestial and find a despot when corrupted by gifts and violence; for NM the people are naturally

80

BOOK I

others which does not know how to reason about “public defenses or injuries” and neither knows nor is known by princes.3 Even when the people is not corrupt, the people’s political ignorance causes trouble to princes who do not know of it. We may surmise that princes do not understand that civilizing a people with religion is like feeding a caged brute: the act does not tame but

I 16

Corrupts? \

TKeother difficulty of maintaining new freedom concerns the prince, but it comes about because men take their “food” for granted. A state that becomes free “makes itself partisan enemies and not partisan friends,” for while those who profited from tyranny, “feeding"off the rictTes~of the prince,” are eager to Have tyranny again, those who~dicTnot are not correspondingly “partisan friends”'"oTtHe free state. The free state confers honors and rewards for certain honorable and determinate causes, and apart from them rewards no one. Since anyone receiving honors therefore thinks he deserves them, he does not consider himself obliged to the giver. Moreover, the common benefits of freedom—the power of enjoying possessions freely without any suspicion, of naTbetng anx¬ ious for the honor of wife or children, of not fearing for themselves—men think to be theirs without avowing any obligation “to one who dogs not offend” them. Tlow then c^TThesEAfifficulties^Tie overcome? No/ remedy! is more sound, more secure, and more necessary, Machiavelli says in formulating one of his slogans, than “to kill the sons of Brutus.” The sons of Brutus had not been able to profit “extraordinarily” under the consuls as they had under the kings; so it appeared TcTlheni that the liberty of the people was "slavery for thenr; Machiavelli then skips from Brutus to “whoever takes up the governing of a multitude, whether in the way of liberty or of principality,’Land insists that such a one must assure himself against enemies of the new order. Reassuringly, he judges those princes unfortunate who to secure their state have to hold to “extraordinary ways” because they have the multitude for their enemy, for one can never secure oneself against the “universality” and so the greatest remedy is to make the people friendly. In relating Brutus’ terrible action Livy makes a point of the difference between monarchical favoritism and republican legality,4 but Machiavelli restates the action as a choice for a new prince between making friends with the few or with the multitude. When the “multitude” is understood as “matter,” it can be identified with the “universality” (Tuniversak) because unlike the few, it has no extraordinary pretensions. To make the multitude friendly is to accept its concern for security rather than for rank or honor, but

ferocious beasts corrupted when kept in captivity, and succumb to a despot out of bewilderment. Whereas Polybius uses the analogy within the cycle of regimes, NM, who considers ferocity to be a healthy condition, does not. 3. Guicciardini in loc., p. 27, is too confident that the Florentine people is not such a people; cf.

Ill. 4. Livy, 11 3. 2. NM mentions neither the evidence of conspiracy with the exiled Iarquins nor the anguish of the father, 115.

LIVING UNDER A PRINCE

81

not so as to pamper it. With a proper concern for the multitude the prince remembers its natural wildness, which is to say the wildness of nature which forced all men to be acquisitive beasts in seeking food and refuge. Machiavelli apologizes for the turn of this discourse, which is not conform¬ able ( powerful when free but when subject to Rome so weak that thev could hardly defend themselves against “one little Roman legion.” The Samnites before and after their conquest by Rome represent all peoples before and after that con¬ quest, the ancients and the moderns. The next chapter is the first of three sermons in the Discourses.18 It begins with a quotation (though as usual not a literal one) from an authoritative text, comments discursively on the topic suggested, and returns to the quotation at the end. For a doctrine that teaches princes the necessity of going to the people it is appropriate to adopt, as an example, the form of popular rhetoric most typical of the time. But it is also necessary to show how to anticipate this most important practice of Christianity. One must learn how to appeal to one’s ow n 14. S., p. 319n80. 15. The subject of D. 115 could have been discussed under “foreign affairs,” we recall. \\1 has Livy “confess” the wonderful resistance of the Samnites and yet “show his faith in” the fact, said not to be marvelous, that the Samnites became very weak when enslaved. “Marvelous” is used six times in II 2, three times to describe the growth of cities, three times in the negative. What is marvelous is the grow th of cities; what is not is the hatred of peoples for tyrants, their revenge against them, and the weakness of servile cities. Livy does not understand that what makes for marvelous increase in cities is resistance to tyranny. 16. S., pp. 155-157.

198 II 3

BOOK II

authority against supernatural authority. Machiavelli, foreseeing the practices of our day, did not believe that the age of reason could dispense with authorita¬ tive texts, for one cannot appeal to the people, who believe on authority, with¬ out appealing to authority. His commentary on Livy, therefore, shows how Livy or some other authoritative text might be used in politics. “Meanwhile Rome grows by the destruction of Alba” is the quotation. Machiavelli says in the ehapter title, however, that “Rome became a great city by destroying the cities around it and by accepting foreigners easily to its ow n honors.” A eity ean make a great empire only if it is filled with inhabitants, inereasing its own body while imposing the hardest slavery on its neighbors, as was said in II 2. But contrary to w hat Livy seems to say, this end w as achieved in two ways, “by love and by force.” By love, ways were kept open for for¬ eigners who decided to come to live in the city, and by force the neighboring cities were destroyed and their inhabitants sent to live “in your city.” In Rome “at the time of the sixth king” there w ere already eighty thousand men capable of bearing arms in consequence of the policy, w hich Machiavelli compares to pruning, of keeping “virtue” in the trunk of the plant so that in time it w ill grow' more green and fruitful. Just when the “hardest slavery,” imposed by the Roman republic on its subjects, is traced to the far-sighted policy of the Roman kings, this slavery is revealed to be both love and force. Although republics inflict the hardest slav¬ ery, they partake of the nature of principalities inasmuch as they are ruled by princes and are capable of taking a softer line to foreigners. But the possibility of mixing love and force derives from the fact that to conquer all foreigners one must welcome all foreigners: limitless imperialism leads to universal love. We can easily guess the source of love that consists in w elcoming foreigners if we transform worldly into otherworldly citizenship. In this aspect not only does imperialism disappear into cosmopolitanism, but foreign policy becomes identi¬ cal w ith domestic; for universal love, like imperialism, is shown in the overcom¬ ing of all the politieal boundaries that distinguish inside from outside things. What the Romans did “by love” was domestic policy; what they did “by force” was foreign. Book II of the Discourses, whose subject is foreign policy, must also, by virtue of the connection betw een force and love, consider—or reconsider— domestic policy. Having seen that Rome’s foreign policy destroyed the free cities of the ancient world, Machiavelli is forced to reconsider the domestic policy that he said in I 4 w as the first cause of keeping Rome free. He now takes a kindlier view' not only of Sparta but also of Athens, “tw o very well-armed republics and ordered with the best law s.” They w ere not as great as Rome, w hich had fattened the body of its city with love and force, but they appeared to be less “tumultuous,” and Lycurgus, who thought nothing more dangerous to his law s than new' inhabi¬ tants, did everything to keep them out, to the extent of discouraging trade (iconversazioni, I 55). When men try to “converse,” the result is tumult. Then, returning to his simile, “because all our actions imitate nature,” he compares a

%

HOW ROME ACQUIRED ITS EMPIRE

[1 3

199

small republic that acquires an empire to a tree that has branches too large for its trunk. Whereas that republic will lose its branches from the least w ind, Rome had a trunk capable of holding any branch whatever. The Romans got their trunk from using the good cultivator’s art of pruning, but in this homely simile for a sermon Machiavelli refers not to any plant but to a tree in particular, and not to the use of an art but to the imitation of nature. As a tree, to be a tree, does not have to be infinitely large, so a state does not have to conquer all its neighbors. Machiavelli suggests a natural limit to imperialism in the interest of recovering the obstinacy with w hich ancient lovers of liberty used to defend themselves, rescuing modern men from the “hardest slavery” of universal love. Yet we imitate nature as we presuppose it, anti Machiavelli was also able to conceive a trunk that could holt! any branch “easily,” and grow by destruction. We are reminded that freedom recovered is not the same as original freedom when w e inspect the context of the quotation from Livy. There w e find that in the next sentence Livy speaks of the addition of Alba’s inhabitants to Rome; so far from neglecting, he emphasizes Rome’s use of love in addition to force.17 Machiavelli deliberately passes over a Machiavellian passage in Livy precisely to his purpose, refusing a free gift. Thus he indicates that a prince, w hen appealing to authority, should mix his own authority with another's, or like a founder

II 4

replace another’s authority w ith a new authority, his ow n.18 After three chapters on the cause of Rome’s conquests one must inquire w hether its expansion, or its mode of expansion, is necessary tor republics generally. Machiavelli show s that its mode of expansion w as the best of three possible “modes.” Considering the apparent necessity of imperialism argued in I 6, however, and the bad effects of imperialism that are brought out in these early chapters of Book II, we should find it notable that Rome’s mode of expansion was merely the best way to expand, and not the only policy to adopt. To be sure, Machiavelli says Rome’s mode was best and leaves us to infer that it was not ineluctable, but when w e find it possible to infer from the bad effects that Rome’s mode was not eventually the best, w e arrive at the subversive politi¬ cal proposal Machiavelli has in mind for his time specifically or for some other times as a model. Whoever has “observed” the ancient histories, he begins, finds that republics have adopted three modes of expanding. One w as the mode “observed” by the ancient Tuscans of a league of republics in which none was outstanding in authority or rank. The two meanings of “observe” in theory and practice suggest two meanings of “expand” of w hich the theoretical meaning is to bring under human control by observing in a certain manner. When the league “ac¬ quired” new cities, it made them “companions.” This method, he says, is used in his day by the Sw iss, and was used in ancient times by the Achaeans and the Aetolians, but Machiavelli “will expand” on the Tuscans, with whom the Rq17. Livy, 1 30. 1; see XXXIX 25 and S., p. 156. 18. NM says Livy’s saying may be summarized in two words. Livy’s two words are crescit ruinis, NM’s are amore and forza.

200 II 4

BOOK II

mans had so much war. He is able to tell us w hat he does, we note, because the 1 uscans were enemies of Rome, and accounts of them were preserved by our Roman historian. For example, we are told that the Tuscans lost Lombardy as the result of a French invasion, the same invasion of “outside forces” called in by Arruns, according to I 7. The French, moved either by necessity or by the sweetness of the fruits, especially the w ine, came to Italy and called Lombardy “Gaul” after their own name for them. Machiavelli insists on calling them the French and the Etruscans the Tuscans, to emphasize the similarities of ancient and modern peoples. There were tw elve Tuscan cities living in equality, five of them named, seven not named, and they were unable to make conquests outside Italy, or even south of the l iber, for the causes to be given below. The second mode is to make “companions” also, but not so that “you” do not retain the office of command, the seat of empire, and the credit of the enter¬ prises. This was the mode observed by the Romans. The third mode is to make “immediate subjects,”19 not companions, as did Sparta and Athens. Of the three modes this last is the w orst, for to govern a city w ith violence is difficult and fatiguing. You need to make “companions” to help you and to increase your population, which Sparta and Athens did not do, and Rome did. Now Machiavelli expands on Rome. Rome was the only city to use the second method and also the only one to become so powerful, making many “compan¬ ions” in Italy and in many cases living w ith them under equal law s, but always reserving the “seat of empire and the title of command.” These companions found that w ithout realizing it they had subjugated themselves w ith their own efforts and their own blood; they became victims of Rome’s indirect government as in domestic affairs the plebs subjected itself to the Senate, pleasing itself w ith formulas of equality. By substituting the “title of command” for “taking credit for enterprises” in the repetition on Rome, Machiavelli hints at an improvement in the Roman mode, possibly to suit his own need. Then the Romans began to take their armies outside Italy, where they found submissive populations accus¬ tomed to being ruled by kings, and when Rome’s companions in Italy found themselves surrounded at one stroke by Roman subjects and understood the deception, it w as too late for them to eseape. They “conspired” against Rome, but soon lost the wars, thus worsening their condition: from companions they became subjects. The second mode of expansion seems to combine the first and the third modes, in appearance like the first, in reality like the third. Perhaps the hardest slavery is the kind you make for yourself after living under the delusion of being a companion. Machiavelli here offers a w ay of betraying allies alternative to the serial method explained in II 1. An expanding power may either use submissive peoples it finds or create them as it expands in order to confront its amazed companions. Machiavelli repeats that this procedure was followed only by the Romans, and adds that a republic wishing to expand cannot keep to any other. 19. Cf. “immediately slave” in D. I 49.

HOW ROME ACQUIRED ITS EMPIRE

201

Experience, as opposed to observation in the ancient histories, has not shown any means “more certain or more true” for expansion than this one. We might expect it to be called “useful” by contrast to the useless third mode, but Machiavelli chooses to remind us of the underlying question of truth. If it is useful for a republic to expand, it must be true that expansion is possible. Yet Machiavelli returns to the first mode of leagues, the best after the Roman. Leagues do not permit you to expand greatly, but they do keep you from easily taking w ars on your back and they allow you to easily keep w hat you take. Leagues cannot expand greatly because they are disjointed, have various seats of pow er, and deliberate w ith difficulty. Thus experience of this procedure makes plain that leagues have a fixed limit, say twelve or fourteen communities. Lor the sake of convenience one could remember this number as thirteen, enough for the twelve Tuscan cities with the addition, and perhaps under the hegemony, of Roman-Tuscan Florence. When the league is filled to its com¬ plement, and believes it can defend itself, it does not seek more dominion, for necessity does not constrain it to acquire more power and it sees no use in further acquisitions. A multitude of companions would cause confusion, and subjects would be difficult and useless to keep. Thus w hen the number is such that they appear secure to themselves, a league can do two things: offer protec¬ tion for money and offer soldiers for money, as the Sw iss do. Machiavelli retails a story from Livy concerning Philip of Macedon’s accusation of bad faith against the Aetolians (a league) for fighting in the service of the enemy; for he had often seen the insignia of the Aetolians in two opposing armies. T his tactic reminds us of sophists w ho sell their services to both sides of an argument, but it would be useful for a writer seeking to expand his influence.20 The mode of expanding by leagues “has alw ays been similar and has alw ays produced similar effects,” and the mode of making subjects has always been weak, but while “useless” for armed republics, it is “very useless” for the disarmed republic of modern Italy. The “true mode,” Machiavelli says, is that adopted by the Romans, which is all the more wonderful in that before Rome there w as no example of it and since Rome no one has imitated it. No one has imitated this wav because Rome, having destroyed every center of ancient 'freedom, then permitted the assumption of pow er by “our religion,” w hich has disarmed 1 leaven and therew ith the'earth.'"including the modern Italian repub¬ lics. When w e have understood how the Roman mode of expansion, though the true way, prepared for modern weakness by destroying or transforming ancient “obstinacy/ we have bcccimc wary ot expansion and ready to look for an alternative policy or improvements in the Roman mode.21 Machiavelli promises to show “at the end of this matter”22—that is, at the end of Book II—that many orders of Rome, regarding both inside and outside things, have not been imitated in present times, nor even taken account of; some 20. See Aristotle on Lycophron, Politics 1280l> 7-32. 21. “Mode” occurs twenty-two times in 11 4. 22. S., pp. 101-102; this is an important indication of NM’s plan for Book II.

202 II 4

BOOK II

of them have been judged not true, others impossible, others irrelevant and useless. But if the imitation of Rome is difficult, the imitation of the ancient Tuscans should not appear so, especially to the modern Tuscans. For if the ancient Tuscans did not achieve an empire similar to the Romans’, they were able to acquire the power in Italy that their mode allow ed them; and this they Field a long time, securely and witfTthe highest glory, and they were especially praiseworthy in their customs and religion. 1 heir power and glory were first diminished by the French and then destroyed by the Romans. Their mode, it seems, did not save them from invaders or from those, like the Romans, using the power of invaders; they could not reckon w ith forces from outside “Italy,” which, w e suspect, represents here the world man controls.23 The Spartans and Athenians made men immediate subjects of higher things, and made it impossi¬ ble for men to expand-^CFnlyuJjeJFtimans have expanded successfully, but too successfully to an ‘Excessive power”; they could not prevent their acquisitions from destroying their own freedom after destroying their neighbors’ freedom. Machiavelli, who initiated the modern enterprise of expanding man’s control over nature, w as far-sighted enough to seek a remedy for its success. Would it be possible to conceive a Tuscan league organized for expansion under the Fndden hegemony of a republic that w as capable of dealing with outside Forces but would not seek to take credit lor the enterprise? So as not to grow' by destroying, such a league would have_to make republics of those provinces acquired outside Italy used to living under kings and to honor foreigners (II 3) by transforming them into Roman citizens while retaining their former free¬ dom (II 2). Two thousand years ago the pow er of the Tuscans w as great; now' hardly a memory of it remains. This fact brings Machiavelli to reflect on the origin of this oblivion, and in the following chapter he goes further m abstraction from the purely Roman context of II 3 and the context of ancients and moderns in II 4 fcT the context of the “w orld.” It is fitting that the last stage be introduced by the consideration of the Tuscans, for they preceded those ancients, the Romans,

II 5

who were the antecedents of the moderns. Therefore, having neither opposed nor prepared the Christian sect, they transcend the difference between the ancients and the moderns and open a view of the natural context of the world in which empires rise and fall and “sects” come and go. The sixty-fifth chapter has this title: “That changes of sects and languages, together w ith the accident of floods and plagues, destroy the memories of things.” It opens with one of Machiavelli’s best sentences: “To those philosophers who have held that the world is eternal I bclieveTme could reply that, if such antiquity were true, it would be reasonable that there be memory of more than five thousand years, if one did not see how these memories of the times are wiped out for diverse causes, of w hich part come from men, part from heaven.” “Those philosophers” are the Averroists, and behind them Aristotle, 23. “Italy,” “Rome,” “Romans,” and “Tuscans” occur nine times each in II 4.

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advancing the outstanding abrmativr in Machiavclli’s time to the Biblical doc¬ trine that God created the world. To them Machiavelli poses an objection, but as soon as it has left his mouth he calls it back w ith a eounterobjeetion, which actually constitutes a reply to those who deny the world is eternal. Yet, having nimbly parried his own thrust, Machiavelli can say it is the office of a friend to expose the weakness of his friend’s defenses. T hose causes of oblivion coming from men are “changes of sects and of languages.” As to sects, when a “new sect, that is, a new religion” arises, its first thought is to extinguish the old, in order to give itself reputation. A new sect is curtly defined as a new religion, not as a sect within a religion, so that the catholicity of religion is ignored.24 Sects change; therefore the world is older than any sect, and those who survey the changes of sects, the philosophers, have a w ider view than the “ordering of a new sect. ” T hat the world is older than any sect or its memory is the premise from w hich this chapter begins, and by itself it is sufficient to deny the Biblical account of the world. When the orderers of a new sect happen to have a different language from the old, Machiavelli continues, they easily extinguish the old, as the “Christian sect”25 cancelled the orders and ceremonies of the Gentile sect and wiped out every record of the old theology. Of course, he says, recovering from the effort of this exaggeration, the Christian sect did not succeed in waping out altogether the know ledge of deeds done by the excellent Gentiles because it w as forced to keep the Latin language in which to w rite “this new law.” If it had been able to write with a new language, then, considering the stubborn persecutions of St. Gregory and “other heads of the Christian religion,” no trace of past things would have been left. One may therefore believe that w hat the Christian sect w ished to do against the Gentile sect, the Gentile sect did against its predeces¬ sors. T his belief w e know to be incorrect, for Machiavelli told us in I 12 that the Romans carried the goddess Juno from a captured T uscan city to Rome. It seems that the Romans could have destroyed the preceding religion and did not w ish to, w hile the Christians w ished to destroy it but could not. Signs of the preceding sect are not alw ays wiped out; they may remain through the tolerance or inability of the succeeding sect. From studying such signs one might con¬ clude that the world is, if not eternal, at least older than the present sect. Perhaps this possibility accounts for both the intolerance and the weakness of Christianity as compared to pagan religion.26 Christianity made ij.s wav hv conversion frm U0u. rith>>r than by mnquest from above, and although one should not underestimate the intolerance of pagan religion or in general of the conquering religions, Christianity clearly had greater cause to beware of opposing arguments because it had less force w ith

24. Cf. the distinction between heretical and catholic sects in I.F. 1 5. See Eugenio Garin, Dal rinascimento all' illuminismo (Pisa, 1970), p. 61. 25. The “Christian religion” in the Blado edition. 26. D. I 10; l.F. V 1; S., pp. 142-144, 202; Francis Bacon, Essay 58, “Of Vicissitude of Things.”

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which to suppress them. Its New Law w as derived from the Old Law' of the Jews, though Machiavelli rather carefully avoids mentioning the derivation, and its disarmed prophets converted the Roman empire w hieh had already disarmed the world. With so much forced dependence, its priests could retain their independence only by asserting and practicing full control over doctrine. Machiavelli speaks next of the two or three changes of sect in live or six thousand years, w hich yields a life-span for a sect of between sixteen hundred sixty-six and three thousand years, but having exaggerated the sameness of sects, while pointing to a comparison of the Christian and Gentile sects, he makes us wonder w hether the succession of sects can be modified. Our attention is particularly directed to the use that Christianity made of the conquering religions, promoting its love over their force and thus adding love to force. The “causps” of oblivion that come from heaven extinguish the “human gen¬ eration” and reduce to a few the inhabitants of part of the world. Machiavelli no longer speaks of accidents, as he did in the chapter heading, but of plagues, famine (added), and an “inundation of w aters” (instead of “floods”). Of these the most important is the last, both because it is the most universal (though still confined to a “part of the world”) and because those w ho are saved are rude mountaineers who w ithout knowledge of antiquity are unable to pass it on to posterity. If anyone with such knowledge should remain, he hides it and per¬ verts it to his use so as to get himself reputation and a name. Here again oblivion is not perfect, but now’ the possibility of controlling the know ledge of antiquity is made explicit and is even assigned to the capability of a single man. No doubt the possibility is exaggerated, since only a truly universal flood could create the opportunity Noah had. Such a man so placed could remake the past a suo modo with a plan as opposed to the occasional Roman borrow ings, and unhindered by Christian dependencies. Follow ing the example of the Christian priests w ho frow n on the history of Diodorus Siculus and give it the reputation of a “men¬ dacious thing” for pretending to give an account of forty or fifty thousand years, he could give and withhold reputation in the manner of the founder of founders

(I 9, 10). I hat inundations, plagues, and famines do come “I believe may not be doubted,” for three reasons: because all the histories are full of them, because one sees this effect—the oblivion of things, and because reasonably it should be so. The first reason treats the Bible as one voice in the unanimity of scholarly literature on the subject; the second presupposes that the world is eternal, and the third offers an alternative to the Biblical explanation of the Flood. Rather than divine punishment followed by divine grace, one may find a reasonable and benevolent purpose of nature in these events, the purgation of “this mixed body of the human generation.” Just as in the case of simple bodies w hen “much superfluous matter” has been gathered in them, nature many times “moves by herself” to purge the superfluity for the health of the body, so w ith men, w hen all provinces are full of inhabitants and no one can live where he is or go

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somewhere else, and when human craft and malice have gone as far as they can go, of necessity the world is purged in one of three ways. So men, having become “few and battered,” live more commodiously and become better. Simple bodies are “many times” purged by nature moving by herself, but mixed bodies such as the “human generation” and the “world” are purged “of necessity” in one of three ways.27 Simple bodies are living beings, but mixed bodies are not mixed of body and soul or divinity; they are collections or “multitudes” of simple bodies. We note that Machiavelli identifies the human generation w ith the world as he did in II 2, w here human glory w as the “glory of the world” and a religion that despised it rendered the “world w eak.” The Christian sect has shown men how to acquire the world for themselves, but as something despicable like the corrupting acquisitions of external provinces by the Romans (II 4). It has revealed the potential power of man to unify the human generation and capture the world. To be actualized, this potenza requires that the human generation be understood as a mixed body in Machiavclli’s sense of matter endowed w ith the spirit of self-defense, thus republicanized. It appears, then, that the three w ays of purging the world must refer not to floods, plagues, anti famines but to changes by men, heaven, and nature, w hich exhaust the possibilities w hen a human condition must change. In the course of his argument Machiavelli has identified accidents w ith heaven and heaven w ith nature, and he seems also to w ant to understand changes of sect and language as fulfilling a natural function, which is for the human good. Rut what is to prevent men from acting on their know ledge of the changes of sects so as to forestall nature’s purges? When “human craft and malice” have done all they can do, has the capacity of huipan virtue been tested? We note that Machiavelli focuses on the evil of overpopulation. A rising population, however, w as the effective standard of the common good that he gave in II 2, and it w as the end of Roman policy according to II 3 and 4. W hat prevents human virtue from extending the life of a sect indefinitely, then, is the discrepancy between the common good of a sect—above all directed against foreigners, and all the more effectively when the method is love instead of force—and the good of mankind to which Machiavelli has promised to contribute. Now some men, the philosophers, have demonstrated the possibility of an outlook on the whole transcending the interest or common good of sects, but (we may suppose) they did not believe their outlook could inspire political action. They did not found a religion or a government. To use a phrase of Plato’s describing the tradition of po¬ litical philosophy he helped to found, the philosophical regime would have to remain a regime “in speech.”28 Machiavelli is more interested in changes of sect than in changes of government (I 2). I le conceived that the philosopher, going 27. I F. V 8; S., p. 337n 117. 28. Republic 473c. In lx'fort’s interpretation of this chapter (p. 545), the reality of the “world" according to Machiavelli is understated or denied, as if he had wished, like a philosopher in our time, to found a perspectival “regime in language.”

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directly to the effectual truth of the matter, could redirect the actions of political men, and teach them to set limits to the imperialism of each sect or empire in the interest of the whole. Each province of the world might pulsate w ith alternating periods of virtue and w eakness, but no sect could become strong enough to disarm the world. At present, of course, the Christian sect merely disarms a part of the world; so Machiavelli can present his boon to mankind in the name of defense of the West, not to say Italy, not to say Florence, against foreigners or barbarians. Yet the interest of one of these is not identical w ith the interest of mankind nor w ith the possibilities of human virtue, and so Machiavelli, despite everything he says in favor of expansion and acquisition, does not teach a doctrine of simple imperialism. He agrees with Polybius that imperialist re¬ gimes cannot escape the corruption portended by the cycle, but he apparently does not think that the philosopher must w ait philosophically for the next flood. He closes the chapter with another reference to the “Tuscan power” once full of religion and virtue, but of which nowTaswas said, only the memory ot tihe name~Temains. But, as we see by comparison with the end ot the preeecITng chapter, it is almost a memory: Machiavelli revives the memory of Tuscan power. In this section of chapters Machiavelli reaches beyond Rome to Tuscany; he does not use Rome to recall Greece. In this chapter he says the Christians were forced to keep the Latin language, and he omits that they w ere forced to use Greek also. In his ow n w ritings he leaves no trace that he knew Greek other than references to Greek writers and many signs of a profound know ledge of Greek political philosophy, not to mention Polybius. It is possible to believe, w ith the great majority of scholars, that he did not know7 Greek, but after experiences w ith the level of Machiavelli’s competence, it is easier to believe that he knew it and deliberately suppressed his knowledge, playfully extinguishing the preceding philosophical sect and perverting the memory of antiquity a suo modo.29 At least he thought it necessary, if the Romans were to be worthy of imitation, to liberate them from their tutelage to Greek political philosophy.

2.

The Cause of Rome's Subjection (II 6-10)

At the beginning of II 6 Machiavelli says that having discussed the Romans’ procedure in expanding, he w ill now discuss their procedure in making war. As in II 4 he had stressed that the Roman mode of expansion w as observed only by the Romans, now he emphasizes the uniqueness of their mode of making war. His purpose is to inspire imitation, not to discourage it, but the vastness of his enterprise raises the problem of inspiring the strong and the prudent w ithout discouraging the fainthearted. At first Machiavelli asks modern men merely to imitate the Romans in poli29. On NM’s silence, see S., pp. 30-31.

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tics, as they imitate them in other respects (I pr.). But if the Romans are to be imitated, they must be imitable; they must have acquired their empire by virtue, not by fortune or accident (II 1). Since—or if—all “accidents” arc planned, an empire so acquired will grow as large and remain as durable as nature allows. The limit on human virtue is revealed to be nature, not fortune, and Machiavelli must look at the Romans not merely in competition with their neighbors or other regimes, but also among sects that have ruled a “part of the world” (II 5) for long, though precisely defined, periods of time. Can the limit of nature on human virtue be overcome, so as to fulfill Machiavelli’s promise to benefit “each one,” not merely in Florence, Italy, or the modern West, not merely of any particular sect, but (as we suppose) of the “human generation”? To do so would require that the Romans be imitated up to this limit and then surpassed. Machiavelli admires Rome and holds it up for admiration in a beautified and rationalized image to the fainthearted w ho fear that nothing great can be attempted, yet from the height of his ambition he also criticizes Rome, more quietly but unmistakably, for the attention of the stronghearted. I hey are to know that it is not enough to imitate Rome, as the others are to know it is not too much. Unlike Polybius, Machiavelli does not criticize Rome as a regime, even though it had become an empire over the civilized world; lie criticizes it as an empire in the context of sects, as though its achievements w ere intended and the intention reasonable and praiseworthy. Pausing for neither wonder nor doubt,

II 6

he considers its performance from the standpoint of the “world,” and finds it an instructive failure. In accordance w ith this standpoint, he saves his criticism of Rome for Book II. Machiavelli does not use an equivalent for “regime” (politeia), the notion w hich is the heart of classical political science. 11 is “modes and orders” lead through the domestic politics of republics and principalities to test the limits of human empire. The topic of making w ar is not far from the preceding topic of expansion, if it differs at all; but it enables Machiavelli to shift his interest from the Romans and the free cities they conquered to the Romans and the enemies w ho conquered them. We have seen how the Romans destroyed the free cities of the West, how they reduced them to subjects by betraying them one by one and awed them w ith the pow er of conquered Fastern principalities; and w e are to see how they made colonies of their subjects, and how the colonies corrupted Rome. Indeed the very expansion whose purpose was to keep Rome free and strong proceeded by a method that contained the seed of future dependency and modern weakness. In making w ar, we are told, the Romans deviated in their every action “from the mode universal w ith others” in order to facilitate their w ay to a “supreme greatness.” Machiavelli recommends this absolutely unique mode to whoever makes war “through choice, or in truth through ambition” (thus contradicting the apparent distinction betw een necessity and ambition in I 37; see I 46) and who therefore w ishes to enrich and not impoverish the “country and his father-

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land,” and to do everything for the profit of “his public.” These expressions, like the argument on the common good of republics in II 2, make the incompati¬ bility between the good of Rome and of its neighbors obvious. At the same time Machiavelli offers the “Roman style and mode” again to “whoever wishes to do all these things,” that is, achieve a supreme greatness without impoverishing the country. If one wishes to understand the full meaning of a “supreme greatness,” one could consult philosophers who had sought to promote man by means of the divinity within him, and to justify his freedom with this dignity. Machiavelli might say that in this promotion, or in truth war, men are impoverished, because their ambition is enslaved when it is justified as divine. Now the Roman mode of making war was, “as the French say, short and big.” Was the mode then so peculiar to the Romans, or is there a modern analogue to it? From the beginning of Rome to the siege of Veii, the Romans came into the field w ith large armies and polished off the Latins, Samnites, and Tuscans in a very short time, six, ten, or tw enty days. After quickly defeating the enemy in one battle {giornata),* the Romans “condemned” them in land, which they turned over to private use or assigned to a colony. The colony, posted on the frontier of the enemy, came to be a guard of the Roman borders, serving for the advantage of both the colonists and the Romans who obtained a guard w ithout expense. Here public use and private profit are combined in the defense of land, and here only, if the public is understood as common land, can they be combined. When the enemy was not in the field, the guard was enough; and when the enemy ventured forth, the Romans “came out big,” won another battle, and imposed graver conditions. Thus they came gradually to acquire reputation over others and force in themselves. Clearly they made their w ars short and big so as to acquire the colonies that they used as an aid in their own defense with the expectation that the wars would be resumed. “Short and big w ars” are really intense bursts of continuous warfare, and perhaps it w as in this w ay rather than by means of a strict succession of gulled allies that Rome defeated its enemies one by one. If men can never come to harmony w ith the limitations placed on their ambition, they must fight; but they fight more effectively by coming to terms w ith nature for a time and leaving a guard against incursions. Rome held to this procedure until after the siege of Veii, when in order to make war for a long time they ordered pay for their soldiers, whom they had not paid before, since the w ars had been short. This change induced Machiavelli’s praise of the Senate in I 51 for having anticipated necessity w ith apparent liberality. Also after the siege (for though pay was introduced during the siege, Machiavelli says the mode of making w ar w as changed afterward) the statue of Juno was taken to Rome (I 12), the unwise proposal was advanced to divide Rome in two (I 53), and the vow was made by Camillus to give Apollo a tenth of the spoils (I 55). But still the Romans kept their w ars short, a “first order” to 1. Since the one makes the number yours, the battle won should be added to the days spent on campaign. “War” occurs thirteen times in II 6.

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which they were held not only by their “natural habit” but by the ambition of the consuls who had one-year terms of which half had to be spent in barracks. The mode is consolidated in an order as a public office or guard, we note. The Romans also continued to send colonies for the great profit resulting from them, but became less liberal with the spoils since they now paid the soldiers and also because, the spoils being greater, they intended to retain them for public use so that they would not have to carry on their campaigns with taxes from the city. Thus the treasury became “very rich,” and with these two modes of distributing booty and sending colonies, Rome, unlike “other unw ise princes and republics,” enriched itself from w ar. Machiavelli temporarily forgets about keeping w ars short, to indicate that these two modes presuppose continued warfare. Besides, acquisitions must be distributed to men, both plebs and nobles, in order to make them rich. Indeed, he continues, things came to the point that a consul could not have a triumph unless he brought with it much gold and silver, and every other sort of spoil, into the treasury. Although the Romans were capable of fighting at length and w earing out their enemies w ith defeats, raids, and accords made to their advantage, they fought within these limits and in short wars, and became ever more rich and powerful. The chapter ends thus, but we know from II 2 that the Romans were suc¬ ceeded by the w eakness of “our religion.” Perhaps w e can detect the beginning of corruption in their reliance on colonies to help defend them and on spoils rather than taxes to fill the treasury. The Romans were becoming very rich, but they were living off others. Machiavelli emphasizes the allocation of spoils to the treasury, but in referring to the change after the siege of Veii he does not mention the spoils then devoted to Apollo. I le could be suggesting that the two were or became identical, that Rome’s public treasury was filled with its devo¬ tions to the gods, or that ancient Rome enacted and prepared the reliance on God characteristic of modern Rome. Machiavelli also does not mention domes¬ tic politics, but in I 51 he said that soldiers were paid so as to gain credit from the plebs, and in 1 37 attributed the distribution of land in colonies to the same motive. It would then be reasonable that the Romans w ere led to their mode of making war by the need to placate the plebs, a need w hich, w hen carried to the utmost, beyond the bounds of earthly empire, as the world became full of inhabitants, would have produced an otherworldly empire offering riches to the people and an impregnable defense to the city. The Romans rightly perceived the need to make the plebs into soldiers, and also to pay the soldiers, but they came to the end of land w ith which to pay them and mistakenly offered them territory they could not guard. The argument at the beginning of Book I is apparently reversed, for instead of justifying discords by the good effects of empire, Machiavelli would justify empire as the consequence of managing the discords. But in truth the need to placate the plebs is derived from the need for empire.2

2. Cf. Lefort, p. 549.

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The next ehapter is one of the shortest, and seems to consider a minor detail: “how much land the Romans gave for a colonist.” Maehiavelli says “I believe” it is difficult to know the truth concerning how much, and “I believe” they gave more or less according to the places where they sent colonies. “One may judge,” however, that in every way and in every place the distribution w as frugal (see I 24), for three reasons. First, the Romans could send more men; and second, the Romans lived poorly at home, and it would not be reasonable that men thrive too much outside. Maehiavelli quotes Livy’s report of how much land each colonist got after Vcii was taken, and starts to give its modern equivalent, al modo nostro, but omits the figure. Third, the Romans judged that not a lot of land, but land well cultivated would suffice. And Maehiavelli adds, closing the chapter, that the whole colony needed public fields w here each could pasture his cattle and get wood to burn, for w ithout these things, a colony cannot be ordered. Ordering requires a common in which each can benefit; so the com¬ mon must be on earth and not beyond (II 6). The clue to this short exercise in constructing the modern equivalents to ancient orders is the modern equivalent of land in a Roman colony, which Maehiavelli suggests but leaves the reader to supply. To this end we observe, according to the central reason why the Ro¬ mans were frugal, that one reasonably judges the practices of the colony by those of the homeland. The next two chapters, like II 1, are among the nine chapters in the Dis¬ courses w hose headings speak of “causes,” here “the cause why peoples leave their native places and flood the country of others.” Having reasoned above on the Roman w ay of making w ar and on how7 the Tuscans were assaulted by the French, Maehiavelli says “it does not appear to me alien to the matter to discuss how they made two kinds of war.”3 This reference to II 6 and II 4 connects the tw o sections to which those chapters belong, and thus the cause of the Roman empire with the cause of its subjection. The two kinds {generazioni) of w ar are the Roman and the French, the latter typical of the barbarians that overran the empire and prototypical of modern w arfare, the kind by which men leave their native places (luoghi patrii) and flood the countries of others. The first kind of war is made by the ambition of princes or republics seeking “to propagate their empire,” as did Alexander the Great and the Romans, and as one power does against another every day. It is surely strange to be asked to consider Alexander and the Romans, who sought to conquer the world and more or less succeeded, together w ith everyday w ars between average pow ers, and it is also surprising, after being told in II 6 that the Romans “deviated from the universal mode of others.” But, Maehiavelli says, these w ars, w hile danger¬ ous, did not chase the inhabitants altogether out of their country; the con¬ querors w ere content w ith their obedience and usually left them their law s, and alw ays their homes and possessions. In the other kind of w ar, a whole people 3. S., pp. 248, 314n31.

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w ith all its families leaves one place, “necessitated” by hunger or war, and goes to seek a “new seat and a new province” not to rule them as in the first kind but to take them for itself and to chase out or kill all the former inhabitants. “This war is very cruel and very frightening”; it reminds us, indeed, of the “very cruel methods” ascribed to the new prince in I 26, for example those of Philip of Macedon, cited there as a new prince and as father of Alexander the Great, the everyday conqueror of II 8. T his remembered, we arc not persuaded that the contrast between tolerant Rome and very cruel French is profound. Machiavelli quotes Sallust to this effect on the French invasion of Rome: the Roman people fought w ith all other peoples solely over who should command, but with the French it always fought “for the safety [or salvation: salute] of each one.” He repeats the distinction between a “prince or a republic” attacking a country, for whom it is enough to wipe out the rulers, and peoples that wipe out “each one” because they want to live on w hat the others were living on; and he says the Romans had three of these “very dangerous” w ars. Then those w ho fight only for ambition may have to defend themselves against those w ho fight for their lives, and in this event the former face the same necessity as the latter.4 Thus can the two causes necessitating very dangerous wars, hunger and war, be reduced to “the cause” of the chapter heading. Further, it is because those fighting from ambition have overcome the necessity of hunger that they are defending instead of attacking.5 6 Of the three very dangerous w ars the first w as between the Romans and the French after the latter had taken Iombardy from the Tuscans. For this war Livy assigns two causes, according to Machiavelli, the sw eetness of the fruits and wine of Italy and the grow th of population among the French, w hich made it necessary for them to seek new lands under two kings w ho let! them to Spain and to Italy.In II 4 these causes were offered as an alternative, but here they are presented together so that one cannot separate the promise of a land, as it were, of milk and honey from the necessity produced by hunger. Actually Livy’s two causes for the invasion w ere the attraction of Italy’s fruits and wine and an ungovernable, not a hungry, multitude of “French.”7 This was the invasion called in as an “outside force” by Arruns (I (I 7), but from this account it would have come uncalled. The cause w hy peoples leave their native places and become an outside force against others is their hunger inside. Machiavelli gives the second and third wars quickly, the second again w ith the French and the third w ith the Germans and the Cimbri. These three w ars the Romans won w ith their virtue, but when this virtue was lacking, and their armies lost their 4. See Livy, VII 24. 4-7. 5. Thus the resuscitation of the distinction between ambition anti necessity is only for appear¬ ance’s sake; I). 1 37, 46; II 6. 6. Livy, V' 34. 4. NM says to Spain, Livy to southern Germany. \M substitutes his judgment for the auguries. 7. Livy does not mention necessity, but says that Gaul was full of grain as well as men; V 33-34. See IF. Ill.

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ancient valor, their empire was destroyed by similar peoples, the Goths, Vandals, and such who seized the whole western empire. With virtue, then, the Romans overcame peoples driven by necessity; yet since their own ambition brought them up against these peoples, and indeed the mere desire for living in “quiet” would not have saved them, their virtue in overcoming necessity must be under¬ stood as directed by necessity. Reverting to peoples driven out of their countries by necessity, Machiavelli says that necessity arises either from hunger or from “a w ar and oppression inflicted on them in their own countries”; and he divides such peoples into numerous and nonnumerous. Numerous peoples enter the lands of others violently, killing the inhabitants, taking their possessions, making a new king¬ dom, and changing the name—as did “Moses, and those peoples who seized the Roman empire.” Moses led an oppressed people, and Machiavelli leaves a hint that in some sense he could be seen as one w ho seized the Roman empire. He gives five examples of lands w hose names were changed by the invasions of the conquerors of the Roman empire, and leaves it to his readers to recall that the name “Roman empire” was never changed, but rather given an ambivalent meaning. Then he mentions Moses again for having changed the name of Syria to Judea, and brings up the “example of the Maurusians,” the people formerly in Syria who were expelled by war. They w ere sent packing by the Jew ish people, w hom they judged they could not resist, and deeming it better to save them¬ selves and leave their country than to lose both by w ishing to save the latter, the Maurusians went off to Africa, where they in turn pushed out the local inhabi¬ tants. Machiavelli repeats w hat Procopius read on certain columns where the Maurusians used to live: “We are Maurusians, who fled before the face of Joshua \Jesu\ the robber, son of Nun.” It is a partisan comment on justice in the promised land, for the Maurusians suffered and did w hat the Jew s suffered and did. Such peoples are “very formidable,” since they have been expelled by a “last necessity” and if they do not meet good arms, they can never be contained. In this view the chosen people was driven by necessity. Machiavelli began by distinguishing the necessities of hunger and domestic oppression, but he blurred the distinction w hen he likened the Jew s to the hungry French. In this chapter the same great changes arc discussed that were considered changes of sect in II 5, but now the causes of such change are reduced from men and heaven to necessity, excluding everyday wars of human ambitions. It is, to be sure, human necessity, for though overpopulation appeared as a natural necessity in II 5—“superfluous matter” in mankind—here it is reported as hunger, one might say the hunger for matter. That overpopulation might be a consequence of human virtue (II 2-4) seems to have been forgotten, except as virtue is included in the human necessity. Moreover, there is no mention of sect or religion here, nor of a sect’s need to gain reputation by extinguishing other sects. Hunger is a sufficient explanation of this need, and religion is what gives a hungry people its name and keeps it together on the move, w ith the belief that it w ill be guarded, that is, fed by a providing deity.

THE CAUSE OF ROME’S SUBJECTION

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Now Machiavelli turns to those w ho are forced to leave their fatherland and are not many. They are less dangerous than peoples because they cannot use so much violence. They must use “art,” as did Aeneas, Dido, the Massilians, and the like, w ho were able to maintain themselves only w ith the allow ance of their neighbors. But art can be as dangerous as violence, for Aeneas soon became King Aeneas of the Latins, combining his neighbors w ith his followers; Dido was allow ed by the very Maurusians to colonize in Africa, after w hich she drove out her trusting benefactors, and the Massilians helped the “French” to invade Tuscany and later the Romans to invade France, according to Ill.8 The latter reference reminds us that the Romans too used art in making alliances and establishing colonies to acquire their empire. In the two preceding chapters Machiavelli had discussed their w ay of making war through colonies, and had said it w as unique; here he has made it an everyday method by contrasting the Romans w ith the French on one point—w hether they left home. But the Roman method seems to be a middle way betw een leaving home and staying, or rather between leaving the conquered alone and forcing them out, for the Romans either made colonies among the conquered or admitted them to Rome (II 3). In sum, Machiavelli indicates that Rome was conquered not only by barbarians w ho overran the W estern empire and changed the names of lands they con¬ quered but also by nonnumerous peoples using art rather than violence, anti lacking therefore the power to change names until by art they acquired the necessary violence (II 5).9 The chapter ends w ith a short discussion of the “large peoples” driven from the lands of the Scythians. If they have not flooded another country for five hundred years, the causes are many, or at least two: first, the great evacuation that these peoples made during the decline of the empire; and second, Germany and I lungary, once populated from those lands, serve as a “bastion” against the Scythians, as do the Hungarians and the Poles against the Tartars. The latter often boast that if it were not for their arms, Italy and the Church would have felt many times the weight of the Tartar armies. So Italy and the Church are guarded by a bastion of “very w arlike” peoples serving the function of colonies (II 6). They have not been protected either by God or by empire, but by a ferocious spirit of self-defense in barbarians. In II 9 Machiavelli asks “what causes” (in the plural) “commonly give rise to w ars among pow ers”; but he speaks of “the cause” several times at the beginning of the chapter. The cause of the w ar betw een the Romans and the Samnites w as a cause common among “all powerful principalities.” It operates either by chance or by the agency of one w ho desires to start a w ar. In the case of the Romans and the Samnites, war began by chance because the Samnites, already at w ar w ith the Sidicini and the Campanians, had no inten8. In 1 1 Rome was said to have made a free beginning under Aeneas, whether he is considered native or foreign; Livy, I 2. 5. In P. 17 1 )ido is cited as an example of a cruel new prince; Procopius, De bello Vandalico, II 10. 25-27. See Livy, V 34. 8. 9. I F. I 5.

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tion of moving against the Romans.10 But as the Campanians were being op¬ pressed, they unexpeetedly made appeal to Rome, and after the Campanians had surrendered to the Romans, the Romans were forced to defend them as their own. Such defense the Romans thought they could not avoid with honor, for w hile it appeared reasonable that they could not defend the Campanians as allies (amici) against their own allies the Samnites, it would appear shameful not to defend them as subjects or clients (raccomandati). They judged that if they did not undertake such defense, the way would be barred for all others who desired to come under their power (potesta), for Rome’s end being empire and glory, not quiet, it could not refuse this enterprise. According to Livy, the Campanians w ere not allied but offered an alliance to Rome, and the Romans had to refuse it because of their existing alliance w ith the Samnites; then the Campanians sur¬ rendered themselves. Machiavelli disregards the difference between old and new (or prospective) allies, and he adds the calculation of the effect on others should the Romans refuse aid to a city belonging to them.11 Clearly the Romans desired subjects, if not “immediate subjects” (II 4). Machiavelli says next that the Roman war with the Carthaginians also began in the same way, through defending the Messinians in Sicily, and also by chance. But if the Romans judged it necessary to defend subjects in order to encourage peoples to become subjects, the action of the Messinians and its result should not have been a surprise to them. In fact, Machiavelli is taking aw ay the merit of deliberate policy from the use of “friends” (amici) as a ladder into a new' province, for which he had praised the Romans at the end of II 1. There he mentioned the use of Capuans as the entrance into Samnium, calling them “friends,” not “subjects,” and forgetting to call the Samnites “friends.” There too he said the Romans used King Massinissa as the w ay into Africa, but now he speaks of the Messinians to introduce the deliberate act of anticipation by Rome’s enemy, Hannibal. Hannibal, being “one who desires to start a war,” attacked Rome’s friends (not subjects) in Spain, the Saguntini, not to hurt them but to provoke Rome. This method of provoking new wars, Machiavelli says, has alw ays been used between powers who have “some respect” both for faith and for the other; and it could be considered a calculated pretext (see I 59). To explain what he means, Machiavelli puts himself in the place of Hannibal, and says: “If I w ish to make war with a prince. . .” Evidently he would not be exactly in Hannibal’s place, because he supposes he w ishes to attack a prince rather than republic, if it were not for the fact that he began the chapter by referring to Rome as a “principal¬ ity.” But if “I w ish” to make war w ith a prince, and there are longstanding treaties between us, w ith a better show of justice I shall attack a “friend of his who belongs to him” (a nice combination of ally and subject), know ing that when I do so, he must either resent it, and then I gain my intent of making w ar, 10. Livy says the cause of the war was extrinsic, VII 29. 3. 11. Livy, VII 31. 2-7.

THE CAUSE OF ROME’S SUBJECTION

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II 10

215

or not resent it, and expose his weakness and infidelity. Either result serves to take away his reputation and facilitate my designs—and, we may add, to make clear how much respect Machiavelli supposes he would have for the faith of the prince he attacked. While in this chapter he expounds the method of an enemy of Rome, he imitated that method by attacking a w eaker ally of Christianity, the Jews, in the preceding chapter. We must become accustomed to the idea of Machiavelli’s making war with a prince. But in truth he is not in the position of Hannibal, the “Carthaginian captain”; he is much weaker. One may calculate, then, the use of this cause of war “among pow ers” or “among the powerful” (infra i potenti) by the w eak, for example by the Campanians w ho surrendered to Rome. A city that cannot defend itself and w ishes to be defended has this remedy: “to give itself freely to the one whom you intend to defend you.” In so doing, you move to be defended by the pow er that moves to defend you, and the causes of w ar operate “com¬ monly,” that is, not only customarily but also on both subject and “principality” together. Men w ill defend as subject w hat they will not defend as friend, anti they w ill be defended as subject when they would not be as friend. Rather than presuppose potentiality in friendly and harmonious nature, Machiavelli reinter¬ prets it in the context of w ar, where the two causes are the same as the cause, necessity, coming by chance or made to arise by human design. The Capuans (that is, the Campanians) gave themselves to the Romans, as did the Florentines to King Robert of Naples, who was unwilling to defend the Florentines as friends, but defended them as subjects against the forces of Castruccio of Lucca.12 The distinction betw een friends and subjects reappears, and the Campanians are said to have designed the entanglement w ith the Samnites that the Romans are said (here, as opposed to III) to have entered by chance. At the same time the Florentines are introduced rather abruptly but quite appropriately, for the unarmed modern cities, incapable of self-defense but desirous of being defended, have perfected the method of w arfare by sur¬ render. They borrowed and inherited this method not, of course, from the Roman colonies, but from the Roman Church, w hich surrendered to Rome for the sake of defense and w hich Machiavelli chooses to portray as a colony, as the colony, of Rome. In the next chapter he explains how the w eaker colony can not only defend itself by surrender but attack the power to w hich it surrenders. Rome was defeated by the barbarians, but not until after it had lost its virtue: Rome lost its virtue w hen it was corrupted by its colonies and became the victim of its ow n unique method of expansion. It acquired its empire by offering a specious equality to friends whom it betrayed and lost it by relying on the specious submission of subjects by w hom it w as betrayed. The “pow ers,” or the pow er of the world, became dependent on its colony and thus became itself a colony. 12. IF. 11 24-26, 30.

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Machiavelli now opposes a maxim of common opinion which “could not be more false,” that money is the sinew of war, but he provides only a limping argument that fails to carry the weight of his denunciation. This muchcriticized chapter13 can be better understood, however, when one observes that Machiavelli has very recently praised the Roman mode of making war for making Rome “very rich” and “ever more rich and powerful” (II 6). One must then look for a criticism of Rome in the argument and, to continue the subject of this section of chapters, a comparison between the Roman mode of making war and other modes. One must also reflect on the meaning of that which Machiavelli says money cannot buy, “faithful arms.” The chapter is written as advice to a prince. Because everyone can start a war as he pleases but not finish it, Machiavelli says, a prince should measure his forces before undertaking an enterprise and govern himself accordingly. This reminder could serve for Machiavelli himself, should he seriously wish to start a war (II 9). But he must measure with prudence and not deceive himself, and he will deceive himself if he measures his forces by money, by the site, or by the good will of men while he lacks “his own arms.” These things will increase his forces, but not give them to him; by themselves they are nothing without “faithful arms.” Since a prince’s arms are not literally his own, he must trust someone and find “faithful arms” for himself. Without these, and Machiavelli repeats the three kinds of forces, much money will not be enough for you; the strength of the country will not help; and the faith and good will of men will not last. “Site” means “strength of the country,” the natural resources, or nature, as we have seen in I 1 and 121. Then Machiavelli begins a second repetition of the three kinds. Every mountain, every lake, every inaccessible place becomes a plain, he says dramatically, when strong defenders are lacking. Money too does not defend you but gets you robbed all the sooner. “Nor can the common opinion be more false which says that money is the sinew of war.” For the re¬ mainder of the chapter Machiavelli discourses on money, and never again reaches the third kind of force, the good will of men. Machiavelli traces the common opinion to a judgment of Quintus Curtius on an incident in which a king of Sparta w as forced to fight because he lacked money, and lost. If he had put off the battle for a few; days, the news of the death of Alexander would have arrived, and he would have been the w inner w ithout having to fight. To judge this event with the maxim in question hardly seems reasonable, and in fact Quintus Curtius did not do so.14 In fact too, Alexander died some years after the battle, inconveniently for Machiavelli’s suggestion that

13. Bacon agrees with NM only with conditions, “Of the True Greatness of the Kingdom of Britain,” The Works of Francis Bacon, James Spedding, ed., 14 vols. (London, 1861), VII, 55-58. 14. Walker (II 107) thinks it possible that NM may have seen an edition of Quintus Curtius that may have contained an addition by another writer to this effect. Gilbert has discovered the maxim in a pratica of the Florentine government; Felix Gilbert, Niccolo Machiavelli e la vita culturale del suo tempo (Bologna, 1964), p. 88.

THE CAUSE OF ROME’S SUBJECTION

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the Spartan king had nothing to fear from a dead Alexander.15 Having invented the incident as well as the judgment on it, Machiavelli might have remarked on Sparta’s inability to meet such a contingency with its leather money, in contrast to the “very rich” Romans. He admits that the judgment is followed by princes of some prudence, but they are not prudent enough. If treasure were enough to win, Machiavelli counters, Darius would have con¬ quered Alexander (indeed, he would have, if Alexander had died), the Greeks would have conquered the Romans, in our time Duke Charles would have con¬ quered the Sw iss, and the pope and the Florentines would have had no trouble in conquering Francesco Maria, the nephew of Pope* Julius II, in the war of Urbino. All these were conquered, we are told, by those who considered not money but good soldiers to be the sinew of w ar: faithful soldiers are good soldiers. As regards the last example, w here the order of conquered-conqueror is re¬ versed, this statement would mean that the pope and the Florentines esteemed good soldiers rather than money, unless conquering means conquering easily.16 Perhaps in modern wars w here the pope or the Church is to be found on both sides, there is a winner by default. In another example Machiavelli tells the story of Solon’s response to Croesus w hen the latter show ed him his immense treasure and asked him how pow erful he judged him: war is made w ith iron, not gold, and someone w ith more iron might take his gold. Besides, after the death of Alexander the Great a “mul¬ titude of French” came into Greece and sent ambassadors to the king of Macedonia to arrange a truce. This king, washing to make a display of his pow er and aw e the French, show ed them his gold and silver, w hereupon the French, w ho had come for peace, broke it and plundered the king of what he had accumulated for his defense. This king was less lucky in his viewers than Croesus, who got good advice instead of being plundered. In this book Machiavelli himself gives advice like Solon, but also makes a display like the kings, though w ith better discernment of what w ill impress his readers. The last example is the Venetians who a “few years ago” lost all their power {state) w ith a full treasury; but in I 53 Machiavelli blamed this defeat on failure to adopt a policy that would have made use of the Venetian treasury. “I say,” therefore, that not gold—as common opinion proclaims—but good soldiers are the sinew of w ar; after the beautiful display of Croesus, Machiavelli speaks temporarily of gold, not money. Gold does not suffice to get good soldiers but good soldiers easily suffice to get gold, and if the Romans had wished to make war rather w ith money than iron, “it would not have been enough to have all the treasure in the world.” This seemingly casual phrase is the key to the chapter. When men mistakenly use gold to get good soldiers, they 15. Aristotle, Politics 1271a 20-26, 1285b 37-1286a 2. 16. Since Francesco Maria recaptured Urhino and held it from February to September, 1517, before losing it for good, it has been supposed that XM wrote this discourse in that time, forgetting, as alw ays, to change the text later w hen it no longer applied. See Opere politiche, p. 406nl.

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are trying to buy the good will of other men; but if they paid all the treasure of the world, they would not receive baek the value of the payment. On the contrary, good soldiers will secure the treasure of the world. Machiavelli does not deny that gold or treasure is the end of war, but he denies that they can be the sinew of war. His use of “gold” and “treasure” suggests that men cannot defend the things they find attractive and cherish by positing them as immedi¬ ate ends. They cannot defend the “treasure of the world,” or the human good, by intending the human good. To have iron or good soldiers is necessary be¬ cause nature does not permit men to live in good will with other men, together intending the human good. He who attempts to buy the good will of men at¬ tempts to buy the good will of nature, which is futile and enfeebling. Machiavelli returns now to the defense of the Spartan king who had “to try the fortune of battle” for lack of money; he might also have been forced to battle if his troops were hungry or if the enemy were receiving reinforcements or if he must flee or fight, as happened to Hasdrubal. Many necessities, he says, make a captain decide to fight against his intention, of w hich one is lack of money; so money should not be judged the sinew of w ar for this reason any more than similar necessities. Machiavelli repeats again that not gold but good soldiers are the sinew' of w ar. We have moved from measuring one’s forces before starting a fight one may not finish, at the beginning of the chapter, to joining battle against one’s desire w hen necessity requires. Money is no longer an item in one’s forces that may be measured inaccurately but, as a result of the example of the Spartan king, a false alternative to doing battle, or trying one’s fortune. Men keep money against the contingency of bad fortune, and they rely on it to obtain the good w ill of Providence. Ultimately money serves the purpose of a sacrifice to God, for money is useless without good fortune and God is in command of fortune.17 Thus when Machiavelli argues that one must not rely on money, he means one must not be dependent on God, or fortune, or faith. When bad fortune comes and necessities threaten men’s well-being, they should not at¬ tempt to buy good w ill or sacrifice but should try their fortune in battle, where they may win. Unhappily neither the Spartan king nor Hasdrubal, both of whom took this recourse, was successful. One must then measure one’s forces carefully w ith regard for the necessity of doing battle or of overcoming fortune, in which measure money is an item, Machiavelli says next, of necessity in second place. He w rote this chapter not to recommend that gold be traded for iron but to show w hat it means to rely on money as a substitute for w ar.18 “It is impossible that good soldiers lack money, as that money by itself find good soldiers.” But if good soldiers never lack money, the Spartan king would not have been forced to fight. Machiavelli says every history shows in a thousand places “that what we assert is true.” Choosing one place in Thucydides, he says that despite Pericles’ advice that Athens could make war 17. In 11 10 “treasure” may be found five times; “gold” eight times; “money” twenty times; and the “sinew of war” six times. 18. See A.G. Vll (512-513) for a more moderate statement on the necessity of money.

THE BEGINNINGS OF MODERNITY

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219

with the entire Peloponnesus “with ingenuity [industria] and by the force of money,”19 Athens, though prospering at some times, eventually lost the war; and Spartan counsel and good soldiers prevailed over the ingenuity and money of Athens. We note the addition of “counsel” to “good soldiers”—no compli¬ ment to Pericles, as compared to Nicias in I 53. But if good soldiers had not lacked money, they could not have prevailed over money. Indeed, what hap¬ pens to good soldiers when they do not lack money? Why had the Spartans made laws to limit the use of money? “The truest w itness of this opinion,” how ever, is Livy—and in a curious w ay. Livy, thinking over w hether Alexander the Great would have conquered the Romans if he had come into Italy, shows three things necessary in war: many and good soldiers, prudent captains, and good fortune. Then examining w hether the Romans or Alexander would prevail in these things, he comes to his conclusion without ever mentioning money. When Livy does not mention something, he has acted deliberately and his silence is significant.20 It would be extremely rash not to apply this principle to Machiavelli himself in all his w ritings and certainly in this chapter, w here he had failed to repeat again the third item in one’s forces, good will. We may also surmise, after this third consideration of an imaginary battle concerning Alexander, that Machiavelli is training us in fighting imaginary battles in general, and particularly in the place of Alexander. How could a prince like Alexander have conquered Rome, if he had had the opportunity (compare I 20)? In the last example Machiavelli speaks again of the surrender of the Capuans to Rome, w hich he had discussed in II 9. The Capuans must have measured their power by money not by soldiers, for having been twice defeated in their attempt to aid the Sidicini against the Samnites, they w ere obliged to become tributaries of the Romans if they w ished to save themselves. We are not above observing that it takes money to save oneself in this way, money and ingenuity. W hat better way could there be to make the Romans dependent on you than to pay them tribute? This example is the thirteenth in the chapter, if the example of the Spartan king is counted twice because it is discussed tw ice. Then the central example is that of the king of Macedonia, Alexander’s successor, show ing the French his gold. Perhaps it w as not unwise to show the French your money, and let them be corrupted by it.

3.

The Beginnings of Modernity (II 1 1-15)

Machiavelli’s consideration of the modes of Roman w arfare led him to the modes of Rome’s enemies, first to those of enemies whom Rome conquered and then to those of the enemy w ho conquered Rome and that still ruled in 19. Cf. Thucydides 1 142, where the equivalent to industria is the art of seamanship. 20. Note fortune together with virtue, D. II 1. S., pp. 30, 303n33, 341 n 168. Lefort, p. 558. Livy, IX 17. 3. The three items of one’s forces correspond to the three necessary things in war according to Livy: money, site, and goodwill to many and good soldiers, prudent captains (see 121), and good fortune. NM is about to suggest something prudent to captains in the example of the Capuans.

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Machiavelli’s day. Yet the beginnings of modernity remain obscure, and for an extraordinary cause. Ordinarily the beginnings of any present establishment are kept in the dark by the interests of the present rulers, who do not consider their original crimes and their early weakness creditable and so do not reveal them unadorned for public inspection. But the beginnings of modern Rome are dif¬ ferent because of its peculiar claim. Modern Rome, taking strength from the other w orld, makes a virtue of w eakness in this world, indeed makes its central virtue the virtue of humility. It therefore does not disguise the weakness of its beginnings as did the ancient Romans: quite to the contrary. But then how7, if not by divine favor, did it become established? It appears that the strong, armed ancients fell under the sw ay of the weak, disarmed moderns, or that w hile the ancient Romanns were strong against the strong, they w ere weak against the w eak. Machiavelli is under the necessity of explaining the strength of modern w eakness and of explaining it as this-worldly strength. He can accomplish this task by placing the moderns in the context of the ancients, w hich he has said is the “honor of the world.” Then he need not refer to the Church because he can represent it in this-worldly politics as the French, the outside force par excel¬ lence, or as the Capuans, experts in weakness, or as the obstinate Samnites, or as the ancient Romans themselves, w hen their modes reveal the modes of their conquerors. This section of chapters, II 11-15, corresponds to the first section on religion in the first book, I 11-15, but since Machiavelli is now7 explaining religion in this-worldly terms, he need not mention it. And since he need not mention religion, he need not contrast ancient and modern religion as he did in I 11-15; for here such a contrast would embarrass an explanation of the moderns in terms of the ancients. II 11

The first chapter of the new section begins easily with a chapter heading consisting of an unexceptionable maxim: “It is not prudent policy to make friends w ith a prince who has more reputation [opinione] than force.” The main difficulty of the chapter, how ever, appears at once in Machiavelli’s use of the example of the Sidicini and the Campanians that he had used in II 9 and 10, for this example refers to peoples, not to a prince. He says that Livy, wishing to show the error of the Sidicini in trusting in aid from the Campanians, and the error of the Campanians in believing they could defend the Sidicini, could not speak in more lively words than these; and he quotes Livy (w ith some changes): “ I he Campanians brought a name [nomen] to the aid of the Sidicini rather than strength for defense.” From which one should note, he continues, that leagues made w ith princes who cannot help you because they are too far away, or do not have forces to do it through some disorder or some other cause of their ow n, bring more fame than aid to those who put faith in them. Finding no mention of princes in Livy, Machiavelli mentions two modern examples “in our days”: the Florentines—who being friends of the king of France received from him a “name rather than a defense”1 w hen they were 1. I.F. VIII 14.

THE BEGINNINGS OF MODERNITY

(Ill

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attacked by the pope and the king of Naples in 1479—and that prince who might trust in the Emperor Maximilian for some enterprise, who would also receive a “name rather than a defense.” Machiavelli quotes, or one might say, invokes Livy’s lively words three times. The Capuans, he says, erred in think¬ ing they had more force than in fact they had; apparently they too relied on a name rather than a defense. In II 10 he implied that the Capuans erred in measuring their forces not by soldiers but by money: Is this the same error as that of relying on a name? These Capuans are, of course, Campanians. Whereas Rome is the name for both the capital city and the state or empire, Capua is the capital city of Campania (see II 9 for the same use of both names). Such is the lack of prudence of men w ho sometimes, not knowing how to defend themselves, w ish to take on the task of defending others. Machiavelli now shifts to the example of another ancient people* the Tarentines. ()nce w hen the Roman armies were sent against the Samnite armies, the Tarentines sent ambassadors to the Roman consul to make him understand that thev wished peace between these two peoples and would make war against the one w ho rejected peace. The consul, laughing at this proposal, had the call to battle sounded in the presence of the ambassadors and ordered his army to attack the enemy, thus “show ing with work and not with words of what reply they were worthy.” To bring peace one must be stronger than those w ho make war, and the Tarentines, though not far away, were too disordered in their ow n affairs to ensure peace betw een two other powers. Their behavior, and that of the Ca¬ puans and the Sidieini, are used to explain the policies of princes—or rather, of modern princes—for the defense of others. Those w ho relied on a name are likened, by apparently careless analogy, to weak intermediaries counseling peace. It is hard to make any sense of all of this except under the hypothesis that a “prince” refers to a superhuman prince, the god of either the theologians or the philosophers w ith whom men try to “make friends,” w ho has more (or rather a) name than force, and w ho is too far aw ay or too disordered to come to their aid. Machiavelli has not reported Livy’s account of the episode betw een the Roman consul and the Tarentines accurately. Livy said nothing about work not words, but instead quoted the reply of the consul to the I arnetines that the auspices being favorable and the “gods witnessing, as you see, we are going forth into action.”2 Nor did the consul laugh. In this chapter, Machiavelli says he is reasoning about the policies princes take for the defense of others and in the follow ing chapter “I wash” to speak of their policies in their own defense. This speech takes the form of a parody ot scholastic disputation.3 The question to be disputed is “whether it is better, w hen fearing to be attacked, to bring on w ar or await it.” Machiavelli reformu¬ lates this question so that we will see how it is connected to the topic of II 11, making friends with a prince who has more reputation than force. “Bringing on 2. Livy, IX 14. 4. 3. S., pp. 41, 51, 158, 304n51.

222

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w ar” is restated as attacking the enemy in his home {in casa) and “aw aiting w ar” as drawing him from home {da casa). The question then becomes whether one has more force at home or aw ay from home, in a situation where there arc two princes of almost equal forces and the bolder one has declared war against the other. Machiavelli observes that some pow ers have more force aw ay from home than at home, and thus makes us reflect that reputation or fame or name is not in every sense opposed to force, but can even be a kind of force. Machiavelli begins the parody w ith seven reasons “I have heard” many times disputed by men w ho are very practiced in things of w ar; in effect, he begins with seven authorities. Four of them are alleged by w hoever defends the policy of going out to attack others, and of these the first two are opinions by Croesus (the king w ho showed off his gold to Solon in II 10 and w hose advice here leads to disaster4) and by Hannibal (speaking to Antiochus) and the second two are examples of behavior by Agathocles and Scipio that are alleged. Examples seem to have the cognitive status of opinions w hen one hears them from those who offer opinions. Those taking the contrary side, who say that to cause misfortune to an enemy one must draw' him aw ay from home, allege one example, w hat happened to the Athenians in Sicily, one example put in a fable, and one opinion combined w ith an example. Of these we may consider the last two. The sixth authority, and the central authority of the alternative Machiavelli w ill favor, is not from the Bible but from “poetic fables,” the story of Antaeus. The fables show that Antaeus, king of Libya, w hen attacked by Hercules the Egyptian, was unconquerable while he waited for him in the confines of his kingdom, but w hen he w as “draw n aw ay” from it by the astuteness of Hercules, lost his state and his life. Machiavelli first gives the prose version of the fable, w hich is political; then he states the poetical equivalents: Antaeus w hile on earth renewed his strength from his mother, w ho was Earth, and Hercules, perceiv¬ ing this, lifted him high and “drew him away” from the earth. By giving the interpretation before the fable Machiavelli suggests that we interpret or poeticize his political prose by constructing fables from it.5 In particular, what does it mean to “draw' away” one’s enemy from his home understood as the Earth?6 The modern world, it would seem, has been drawn away from the earth. Machiavelli says next that “modern judgments” are alleged to support this alternative. “Everyone knows” that Ferdinand, king of Naples, “was in his times held to be a very w ise prince.” This is a beautiful description of authority dressed as reason, for Machiavelli, having heard these authorities, presents their dispute on his ow n authority and without reference to any authors. He comes 4. A.G. VI (488). 5. See Dante, De monarchia II 7, where this fable is adduced as an example of one kind of contest in which God’s judgment is revealed; but it was the other kind of contest, an athletic competition, to which the Roman conquest of the world is said to belong. The fable is also used in II Convivio III 3 to illustrate the statement that a mixed body naturally loves the place and time of its generation. 6. Cf. “draw away” (discostare) in the speech of the Tarentine ambassadors, II 11. “Draw away” occurs eleven times in II 12; “war” thirteen times.

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close to naming an author only in the present instance, where he says that Ferdinand left “notes” (ricordi) for his son, advising that should he be attacked by the king of France, he must await the enemy inside his kingdom and for “nothing in the world” (per cosa del mondo) take forces outside his state. I Iis son Alphonso did not observe the injunction, but having sent an army into Romagna, he lost the army and his state w ithout fighting. It would not be difficult to interpret this incident by poeticizing it after the manner we have just been show n. As Alphonso rejected the advice and authority of his father, whom everyone but himself knew to be esteemed very w ise, so the later Romans rejected the example of their forebears in allow ing themselves to be separated from this world. Machiavelli now gives eight “reasons” apart from the “things said” above (which were reasons he had heard), four on each side. Reasons for attacking the enemy are: that he w ho attacks comes w ith greater spirit than he who aw aits, which makes the army more confident; that the attacker takes away from the enemy the use of subjects w ho have been plundered; that the “lord” w ho has an enemy in his home is constrained to be more careful in taking money from his subjects and in burdening them; and that the soldiers of the attacker, being in a foreign country, are forced to fight of necessity, and this necessity makes virtue, “as w e have said many times.” On the side of w aiting for the enemy, it is said: you (Machiavelli now addresses the one w ho waits to be attacked on his home ground) can give trouble; you can better impede the enemy’s designs for you have more know ledge of the country than he: you can meet him with more forces, since you can easily unite them all but you cannot take them all aw ay from home; if defeated you can easily re-form your army, w hether because it can run to nearby refuges or because relief does not have to come from afar. Thus you risk all your forces but not all your fortune, while going aw ay from home, you risk all of your fortune and not all your forces; Machiavelli recalls the topic of 1 23, forty-nine chapters earlier. Some have purposely allowed the enemy to enter their country and to stay several days taking tow ns and leaving garrisons so as to weaken its army and to be able to fight it more easily later. Machiavelli now resolves this issue himself, and with emphasis on himself. “But, for me to say now what I understand of it, I believe that this distinction has to be made: either 1 have my country armed, like the Romans or as the Sw iss have or I have it disarmed as the Carthaginians had or as the king of France and the Italians have.” The Romans, we note, are not specified as to present or past as are the others; could the modern Romans be in some sense armed? And in w hat sense are the Carthaginians, the king of France, and the Italians disarmed? Machiavelli says that if you arc disarmed you must keep the enemy separate from your home. Since your virtue is in money, not men, any time that the flow of money is impeded, you are “sold out.” The Carthaginians, for example, could fight the Romans from their income while their home was free, but w hen they were attacked they could not resist Agathocles. Then skipping over the

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king of France, Machiavelli refers to the Florentines’ giving themselves to the king of Naples when they were attacked by Castruccio (II 9), in contrast to the spirit they showed in attacking the duke of Milan in his home: “so much virtue they showed in far-off wars and so much vileness in those nearby!”7 So much virtue is indeed a surprise by contrast to II 10 in a city that relies on money, not men, and by contrast to II 9, in Florence at a time when it w as giving itself to a king. Though both Carthage and Florence were commercial cities, Machiavelli explains the meaning of “disarmed” as commercial only in regard to Carthage, and credits only Florence w ith virtue in far-off w ars. This chapter began w ith the assumption of a w ar between “two princes of almost equal forces,” an assumption which would seem to require that both “princes” be either armed or disarmed. Now' it appears that disarmed princes or powers, especially modern ones, have a surprising ability to carry on wars at a distance, and their best strategy (to combine this chapter and II 9) would be to surrender to the enemy at home and to fight him abroad. Since we need to learn how' a disarmed power defeated an armed one, this is valuable information. When kingdoms are armed, however, such as Rome w as and the Swiss are, they are more difficult to conquer the closer you approach them because these bodies can join more force to resist an attack than to assail someone else. Machiavelli now' addresses the enemy of two such manifestly republican “armed kingdoms” as the Roman and the Sw iss. As regards the Romans, he rejects the “authority” of Hannibal, whose passion and profit made him speak as he did to Antiochus. Machiavelli had quoted him as saying that the Romans could be defeated only in Italy, where an invader could use their arms, riches, and friends against them. Perhaps Hannibal, leading a disarmed people, was com¬ pelled by his ow n necessity to fight the Romans in Italy. If he had defeated the Romans three times in France as he did in Italy, Machiavelli continues, they would have been finished. But the Romans were able to muster more forces against the French in Italy, and more in Tuscany than they could have in Lombardy; and though they lost to the Cimbri in Germany, they defeated them in Italy. The Sw iss, too, are easy to defeat aw ay from home but very difficult to conquer at home. “I conclude” again, he says, that that prince w ho has an armed people ordered for war should alw ays aw ait a powerful and dangerous w ar at home, and not go out to meet it; but he whose subjects are disarmed and whose country is unused to w ar, should alw ays remove himself “the farthest he can” from his home. Thus both the one and the other, each in his rank {grado), will defend themselves best. For the reasons given, we focus our interest on the strategy of the prince w hose subjects are disarmed. First, what can he do against an armed enemy? He would seem to be in grave difficulty, for he must keep the enemy away from his 7. Cf. NM’s comment on the ability of the pope to command the king of England and his inability to make himself obeyed by the inhabitants of Rome: “So much are the things that appear feared more at a distance than nearby” (I F. I 19).

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own house, where he is weak, and yet not fight in the enemy’s house, where it is strong. What he must do, then, is to fight “the farthest he can” from home, w hich would be in the other world. Machiavelli suggests that we need another distinction, that betw een this world and the other, to make sense of his distinc¬ tion between armed and disarmed powers; those powers armed in this world may be disarmed in the other and vice versa. Thus, for example, Machiavelli’s proposal in 112 to weaken the Sw iss by putting the pope in Sw itzerland does not contradict his statement in II 12 that the Swiss are very difficult to defeat at home, because the Sw iss may be persuaded as w ere the Romans that their home is not on earth. Anyone so persuaded w ill invoke the name of the other world as a defense, but will not be defended. Machiavelli’s advice to the armed not to light away from home amounts to the weightier advice not to refashion the other world in terms of this one. How, then, should a disarmed prince conduct himself against another dis¬ armed prince? Here Hannibal, the enemy of Rome, serves as authority in recommending that the Romans be fought in their home, w here their arms, riches, and friends can be used against them. Though Machiavelli can never be an armed prince in the primary sense, he has supposed himself the prince of an armed and of a disarmed country, since indeed he is both in the secondary sense; being armed with the weapons of the disarmed, he advises himself to fight at home on earth and yet, being disarmed, he must fight aw ay from home w ithin the confines of the enemy. As an example of the latter w e have a scholas¬ tic disputation in which the only authority identified as such is an enemy of

13

Rome telling how to defeat the Romans. In the thirteenth chapter, the central one of the section, Machiavelli is at his most Machiavellian in the vulgar sense, teaching openly w ith gay impudence the necessity of fraud for princes, new princes, or beginners. 11 is impudence, however, stops just short of incaution, and indeed may be said to have the function of show ing how far one can go. To confirm this teaching Machiavelli here also goes further than one can go, for the refined Machiavelli is a refinement of the vulgar Machiavelli. The chapter is entitled: “That one comes from low to great fortune more through fraud than through force.” At the end of 1112 Machiavelli had spoken of the “rank” (grado) of the armed and of the disarmed prince; here he begins and ends with references to great and sublime ranks as equivalent to “great for¬ tune,”8 since men cannot take their rank as assured. Rising from the status of disarmed to that of armed prince is going from low fortune to great, but since the “men of little fortune” have the w eapon of fraud at their disposal, no prince needs to think himself disarmed in every sense. Machiavelli does not believe one w ill ever find that force alone is enough. We have had many indications of this 8. Both II 12 anil 1113 begin with Io \ cf. 1117 and II 18. II 13 is the seventh of thirteen chapters in the Discourses that begin with the first person of the personal pronoun; S., p. 312n22. Pierre Manent, Naissauces de la politique mode rue (Paris, 1977), pp. 19-20.

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instruction before now: in Book I the repeated discussions of election and in Book II the sermon on love and force (II 3) and in this section the chapter on opinion or name and force (II 11). The difference is in the name given to the alternative or complement to force, and thus in the frankness w ith which he now says what he had indicated before. Two examples of frankness on the part of writers are given in the chapter. Whoever reads the lives of Philip of Macedon or of Agathocles or many other similar men, who came from the lowest or at any rate low fortune to a kingdom or to very great power, will see that fraud alone is enough, Machiavelli says. Xenophon shows this necessity to deceive in his life of Cyrus when he “makes” Cyrus use fraud on his first expedition and has him seize the kingdom with deceit, not with force; thus he teaches that a prince who wishes to do great things (which is equivalent to rising from low to high fortune) must necessarily learn to deceive. He also “makes” Cyrus deceive Cyaxares, king of the Medes, his maternal uncle, in many ways, without which fraud he shows that Cyrus could not have arrived at the greatness he achieved. Xenophon, then, was not an historian but a writer of fiction who taught the necessity of fraud in the guise of an historian.9 Machiavelli repeats that he does not believe one will ever find someone placed in low fortune achieving great power “only w ith open force and ingenuously” since the use of open force is reserved for positions of great power, and to be of low fortune means to be lacking in the pow er to use open force. “Open force” implies the possibility of covert force, another name for fraud. Machiavelli says that fraud alone is enough, but his examples so far imply rather that fraud acquires force, somewhat as good soldiers acquire money. His next example is Giovan Galeazzo who through fraud alone took the state of Lom¬ bardy from Messer Bernabo, his uncle. His uncle? This is the second uncle in tw o sentences so deprived, and yet it hardly seems a condition of the low est or low fortune to be the nephew' of the king or the highest pow er, unless perhaps Machiavelli had other nephew s (nipoti) in mind.10 But if he had, and since he is so candid on the necessity of fraud in this very chapter, w hy did he not say so? What is necessary for “princes at the beginnings of their expansion” is also necessary for republics until they have become powerful, when force alone is enough (compare I 59). Since Rome, either by chance or by choice, used all necessary modes of becoming great, it did not lack this one. Here in an almost parenthetical phrase is the admission that Rome did after all rely on fortune as well as virtue, or, one might say, the assertion by Machiavelli that his regime surpasses Rome’s. Yet, we must not forget the advantage of accidental perfec¬ tion which is also indicated, for if Rome had not scrambled by chance for the modes it did not choose, it would not have found all modes necessary to great¬ ness and not achieved a “supreme greatness” (II 6). Here too, one chapter after reiterating that necessity makes virtue, he tells us that fraud is necessary at the 9. S., p. 139. 10. See I F. 1 23; S., p. 42.

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beginnings, when necessity impends; so fraud, if not part of virtue, is at least no bar to virtue. Machiavelli instances Rome’s policy, at its beginning, of adding to its domin¬ ion by the deceit of making companions, the method of expansion which in II 4 was implied to be a fraud but not so described. Referring again to the Latins and the conspiracy they planned “against the Roman name,” he says that they used their indirect method of opposing the Romans by defending the Sidieini against the Samnites after they realized the deception practiced on them by the Ro¬ mans. This deception Titus Livy put in the mouth of a Latin praetor, who said: “For if even now under the cover of an equal treaty we can endure slavery ...” Such, according to Machiavelli, was Livy’s teaching of the necessity of fraud. One can speak the truth about the frauds of a foreigner in his beginnings, as did Xenophon, or have a foreigner speak the truth about one’s own beginnings, as did Livy; but one cannot apparently speak the truth about one’s own begin¬ nings. At least one cannot speak candidly, for the Latin praetor’s statement does say something Machiavelli could have considered true about the beginnings of his Rome and the bargain then struck between Church and State. I le says the statement shows that the Latins understood they had been deceived, and their indirect conspiracy with the Campanians among others against the Romans shows that they understood how . They had awakened after the Romans had tw ice defeated the Samnites to find themselves “w holly slaves,” anti roused w ith envy and suspicion by the Roman armies they saw and felt, they undertook the conspiracy. Yet to “far-off princes” (see I 12), who heard the Roman name but did not feel their arms, the same event merely brought great reputation for the Romans. We may put Machiavelli’s fundamental statement about beginnings in this section as follow s. The beginning of things is the principle by w hich they are ruled, and by this principle men are ruled w ith no regard to their intention or good so that the rule of this “prince” appears to men as their subjection to fortune. Being subject to fortune is a condition of low fortune, how ever lucky one may be; but that is the natural beginning of man (see I 2). To establish his rank, therefore, he must rise; for his rank is not established by nature and he cannot make friends with that prince (II 11). If he must rise from his weak beginning, he must understand himself as disarmed but capable of becoming armed in response to the necessities that chance presents on his w ay up. The high rank he claims for himself derives from his pow er of choice, but as he can never take that power for granted, he cannot expect to exercise it except in response to necessities. When responding to necessities, man seems not to be choosing, hence not to be asserting his own ambition to establish his rank in nature. This is the character of human fraud that Machiavelli finds necessary: pretending not to be ambitious while using chance necessities to arrive at “great fortune.” Since man’s place in nature is not assured, he can never have rank, despite every effort of virtue, except by great fortune.

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The chapter closes with an expression of the moderate view that fraud is necessary rather than sufficient for leaping from small beginnings to sublime ranks, and fraud “is less blameworthy the more it is hidden, as was that of the Romans.” This might seem a strange remark from one who has done his best to disclose the necessity of fraud in this chapter, but we have seen that Machiavelli did not reveal his own fraud. To reveal fully the necessity of fraud, or to exaggerate it so far as to make fraud seem sufficient, is to make a virtue of weakness, for one uses fraud only when he is not strong enough to act “only w ith open force and ingenuously.” I he virtue of weakness is humility, w hich is

II 14

discussed in the next chapter. Machiavelli now accuses the Romans of making a mistake w hen they were in their prime, which could not have been characteristic of them then, but was their fatal mistake later. “Many times men deceive themselves, believing that w ith humility they w ill conquer pride.” As usual, the text is more extreme than the heading, for it begins by saying that humility not only does not help but hurts, especially w hen used w ith insolent men who through envy or other cause have conceived a hatred for you. “Our historian” vouches for this in “this cause”11 of w ar betw een the Romans and the Latins, for w hen the Samnites complained to the Romans that the Latins had attacked them, the Romans w ere unwailing to forbid such a war to the Latins, desiring not to irritate them. This action not only did not irritate them, but made them more spirited, a result vouched for by the words of the same Latin praetor we remember from II 13. He has been promoted from Livy’s mouthpiece to the voucher of Livy’s vouching, and in a long quotation12 he attributes Rome’s “patience” and “modesty” toward the Latins to an aw areness of its own weakness. Machiavelli says that one learns “very clearly” from this text how the patience of the Romans increased the arrogance of the Latins. One might suspect that the Romans were biding their time, w aiting for the arrogance of the Latins to swell until it enraged the Roman plebs,13 just as the Senate had allow ed the arrogance of Appius to develop and bring his downfall (I 40). One might suspect that Roman humility w as indeed “patience” and that Machiavelli w ishes to help us understand the modern fraud, humility, as pretended weakness.14 But this undercurrent of argument is subor¬ dinate to his need to explain the occasion on w hich the Romans humbled themselves to their weak but arrogant conquerors. For the rest of the chapter, where one would expect a modern example, Machiavelli instead addresses a prince. A prince, he says, should never w ish to neglect his rank and never let anything go by consent, thinking to let it go honorably, unless he can hold it or believes he can. It is almost alw ays better to 11. The “other cause” was suspicion and fear in 11 13, but they hardly consist w ith insolence. 12. Livy, VIII 4. 7-8. NM perfects the praetor’s argument as to the Latins’ strength by omitting his references to the long-standing custom broken by the Latins and to their allies. 13. Livy, VIII 6. 7. 14. S., p. 326n 179.

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let something be taken from you by force than by fear of force, for if you let it go with fear, you do it to avoid war, and usually you do not avoid it because he to whom you have discovered your vileness will not stop but will take other things from you and grow hotter against you, esteeming you less; meanw hile you find your defenders cooler, since you appear to them w eak and vile. But if you suddenly uncover the w ish of your adversary, and prepare your forces, even if they are inferior, he and other princes w ill begin to esteem you; the latter w ill come to your aid, if you are up in arms, as they would never do otherw ise. Such is Machiavelli’s inspiriting speech to a prince contemplating surrender to the “Latins.” It denies the hope behind fear and affirms the hope of aid from other princes, though without supporting it. Machiavelli detracts somewhat from the effect by adding that all this holds w hen you have one enemy only. If you have more, it is alw ays prudent policy to give up some of your possessions to one of them so as to gain him over and to divide the confederation of your enemies even if w ar has already been declared {scoperta).15 For example, if both nature and God are man’s enemies, this tactic could be used with one or both. Using the word scoprire four times in this short

II 15

chapter, Machiavelli concludes that it is possible and advantageous under cer¬ tain circumstances to be the open enemy of a superior pow er or confederations since it gains you esteem. I le seems almost to say that it pays to be arrogant.16 We may therefore take this chapter to be his declaration of w ar against the ruling power of his time. Having considered the virtue that the moderns make of weakness, Mach¬ iavelli turns to the faithlessness in which weakness becomes manifest. The chapter heading announces two topics: “Weak states w ill alw ays be ambiguous in deciding; and slow deliberations are always harmful.” But though the body of the chapter keeps to this division, the reasoning cannot do so because the slow deliberation he discusses is caused by ambiguity in weak minds. In 1115 Machiavelli represents w eak minds through the actions of w eak states and thus performs the trick of presenting Hamlet w ithout the prince of Denmark. Machiavelli continues “in the same material and in the same beginnings of war between the Latins and the Romans,” and he w ill give another quotation from the Latin praetor: 11 13-15 are explicitly connected. The “little begin¬ nings” of II 13 are “beginnings of w ar” in II 15 because if one does not inherit great fortune one must rise to it through w ar of some kind. One can note in this material, then, how in every “consultation” it is w ell to come “to the individual” of w hat one has to deliberate (something Machiavelli fails to do here, in the sense of coming to an individual deliberation) and not alw ays remain ambiguous or uncertain. This is manifest in the consultation of the Latins when they w ere thinking of alienating themselves from the Romans. At that time the Romans, 15. This is what the Venetians failed to do, D. 1 5 3. 16. 1'his would be NM’s answ er to Guicciardini’s objection to II 13 that it would be unprofitable to have a reputation for fraud.

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having anticipated the “bad humor” that had entered into the Latin people, and thinking they could make sure of the matter and possibly regain this people for themselves without putting their hands to arms, gave the Latins to understand they should send eight citizens17 for a consultation. This is the Roman act of “humility” of II 14 now redescribed. Since the Latins had an “awareness” (coscienza) of many things they had done “against the will of the Romans,” they held counsel as to who should go to Rome and what they should say. In the council our now familiar Latin praetor (quoted from the same speech for the third time) said that it was more pertinent to consider what to do than what to say and that it would be easy, once the plans are settled, to accommodate words to things (compare II 11). These “very true words” should be chewed on by every prince and republic—so that they can accommodate their deeds to words—for in am¬ biguity and uncertainty concerning what others w ish to do they cannot accom¬ modate their words, but once their spirit is firm and they have decided what is to be “executed,” it is easy to find words for it. “I have noted” this point the more w illingly, Machiavelli says, as “I have many times know n” such ambiguity to have harmed public actions, with harm and shame to “our republic.” He repeats that in doubtful questions where spirit is needed to decide, this am¬ biguity will always be present when these questions have to be decided by “weak men.” “Our republic” may be Florence or perhaps the Christian republic, w hich is composed of many weak states. Weak men dissolved in ambiguity are responsi¬ ble for weak states, but Machiavelli does not enter their minds to discover the precise ambiguity. He only says that a firm spirit prevents it, even w hen one is called to account by Romans w ho have anticipated your “bad humor,” w hom you approach w ith the consciousness (or conscience) of deeds done against their w ill. It is evident that the subject of this chapter is the guilty conscience. The second topic is “slow and late deliberations,” especially those to be made in favor of some friend, proceeding from “weakness of spirit and of forces” or from “the malignity” of those deliberating. We are furnished three examples not of a man deliberating but of “good citizens” advising against the weakness or malignity (the two are not distinguished) that produces faithlessness to friends. In the first example the Syracusans are disputing whether to join the Carthagin¬ ians or the Romans, and one of their leaders tells them that neither opinion should be blamed, but that ambiguity and tardiness in taking sides are to be detested. Once the policy has been resolved, w hatever it might be, one can hope for some good. In Livy’s account (for Machiavelli says Livy could not show better the harm of remaining in suspense) the speaker points to the danger of civil war as the reason why all should take one side, whichever it was; but Machiavelli does not give this reason. He w ishes to supply some ground for the hope in foreign aid that he promised in II 14 to the prince w ho defends himself 17. Ten, according to Livy; VIII 3. 8.

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spiritedly. He refers again to ambiguity after he seemed to have finished with it, now the ambiguity of choosing which of two possible allies. Next, Livy show s this point in the case of the Latins, who had sent to the Lavinians to ask for aid against the Romans. The Lavinians took so long to decide they would aid the Latins that just after they left their gates, they received the news that the Latins were defeated. W hereupon their praetor (quoted in Italian) said: “ This little way will cost us very much w ith the Roman people.” To make the story better than Livy made it, Machiavelli adds that by deciding earlier the Lavinians could have enabled the Latins to defeat the Ro¬ mans. The Latins, then, were defeated by the slow deliberation of a friend, if not by their own slow deliberation. Perhaps they erred in not fighting the Romans w ith that degree of open force w hich would gain them esteem and the aid of friends (11 14) and in using too much “love” (11 3). The Lavinians should have chosen one part or the other but instead they were tardy, and their tardiness betrayed their bad intention. In the third example the Florentines go a step further and attempt a policy of neutrality w hich has the effect of betraying the bad intention that it w as designed to conceal. Indeed the three examples proceed in ascending order of w eakness: The Syracusans hesi¬ tated but decided in time; the Lavinians did decide but too late; but the Floren¬ tines never finished ratifying even an argument of neutrality w ith Iouis XII until it was useless to him. And w hereas the Lavinians could have intervened decisively and received the spoils of victory, the Florentines offered neutrality and sought merely protection. This policy was all the more to be condemned (dannabile) as it was also useless to the king’s adversary, the duke of Milan. Machiavelli concludes by referring to another chapter in which he had discussed the evils that arise in republics from such weakness; now having occasion again (di nuovo) through a new accident he wished to repeat the topic since it appears to him especially noteworthy for “republics similar to ours” (that is, similar to Florence). On returning to this previous chapter (I 38), and noting that it stands in the center of the seventy-five chapters w e have read so far,18 w e observe the obvious difference that the earlier chapter refers w eakness to the failure to recognize or anticipate necessity anti this one refers it to “ambiguity” or failure to choose. Clearly the neglect of necessity here makes room for intention or “bad humor” and for awareness of it by a pow er that can punish it and for awareness of that aw areness, w hich is bad conscience. For conscience seems to be not merely the “consciousness of strength” (conscientia virium), of w hich the Latin praetor spoke in II 14; it requires a mutual aw areness of bad intention. Yet the praetor was arrogant because he had miscalculated the relative strength of the Latins and Romans; if he had not, might he not have been fearful and vile (II 14)? It appears that men are in a dilemma between arrogance and humility. Their 18. S., p. 314n35.

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arrogance arises from their sense of rank for having the power of choice, and philosophers and theologians have attempted to certify this rank by supposing that nature or God takes account of human choice. If so, men must choose w ith an eye on nature or God, but then the eye they keep on their ow n needs puts them in a state of ambiguity or guilty conscience. Or the same point might be made without reference to philosophers and theologians: One eannot choose w ithout losing the power of a choice; for example, after choosing an ally one has lost the power to choose an ally, in the same terms at least. Men therefore hesitate to choose in order to protect their power of choice, and stand in sus¬ pense so that they do not have to obey the consequences of a choice. To suggest this difficulty, Machiavelli uses the word for “choose,” diliberare, in both the meaning of “deliberate” and “decide” in II 15 and elsew here. But if men appar¬ ently cannot choose without losing the pow er of choice, it is surely true that if they do not choose, they w ill lose the power of choice, and be overwhelmed by the necessities to which they hesitate to respond. This result Maehiavelli be¬ lieved to be the greatest danger to man, as revealed by the weakness of his time. To avoid it, he thought it necessary to drop the assumptions that nature or God takes account of human choice, and that some conformity exists betw een human speech (w hich is the mode of articulating choice) and nature or God as in¬ telligible by speech. Choosing must come to choice, with firm spirit and sudden execution; then words must be accommodated to the deed. It might seem that having avoided arrogance and ambiguity, we have fallen into humility; but men can be free of the necessities they face, he believed, if they answer human necessities and choose to help other men. It is true that helping other men usually means choosing an ally and hurting your common enemy, but this unsentimental humanity keeps men strong and enables them to support their own private assertion of their rank. In this chapter Machiavelli has given a political representation of the workings of conscience in order to show howr it could be used, as the consequence of the virtue of humility, to disarm and capture the strongest state of antiquity. But he also suggests the extent to which one must measure his forces well (II 11) in order to be altogether bad or al¬ together humane.

4.

The Modern Army (II 16-18)

The previous section explained the beginnings of modernity: how7 Chris¬ tianity conquered the Roman Empire with a name rather than a defense (II 11), lighting its war by running away to the other world (II 12); how it used overt fraud to create strength out of weakness (II 13) through the virtue of humility (II 14), which by conceiving all power to be in the other world keeps the powers of this world in a state of bad conscience or ambiguity betw een the needs of this world and the other (II 15). Now come three chapters on the three parts of an army, but especially of modern armies, also called “Christian armies,” because

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it soon appears that the order of the Roman armies was essentially an order of infantry to which artillery and cavalry were mere supplements. In the modern or Christian armies, however, the three parts are inseparable in an order which Machiavelli argues is inferior to the ancient order. But if it is simply inferior, how could the ancient armies have been defeated? In what sense, too, can there be “Christian armies” if Christianity has disarmed Heaven and made the world weak (II 2)? What is the army of the disarmed? This section of chapters corre¬ sponds to I 16-18 on the overcoming of corruption, follow ing I 11-15 on reli¬ gion: we are learning still how the disarmed w eakness of Christianity ean be explained as a political advantage. That the point is important to Machiavelli is indicated by the fact that these are the central chapters of the central book of the

II 16

Discourses. For in explaining the power of Christianity, he lays the foundation of the power to overcome it. The first military branch discussed is the infantry, but discussed in terms of the quality it embodies, obstinacy (ostinazione)\ the word “infantry” does not occur until near the end of the chapter. The title is: “I low much the soldiers of our times are deformed from the ancient orders.” The chapter follows a discus¬ sion of “w eak states” and is spaced at a regular interval from other chapters that discuss weakness (I 19, 38, 57) so as to suggest that the “soldiers of our times” are weak.1 Machiavelli comes to this point after discussing the strength of the Romans, show ing how they defeated the Latins and the orders of the Roman army. The most important battle, Machiavelli begins dramatically, that the Roman people ever had in any w ar w ith any nation w as the one with the Latins in the consulship of I orquatus and Decius. “Lvery reason” assures that as the Latins became slaves because they lost this battle, so the Romans would have become slaves if they had lost. Titus Livy is of this opinion (though he omitted to say so2) because he makes the armies equal in every way—in order, virtue, obsti¬ nacy, and number;3 the only difference w as that the heads of the Roman army w ere more virtuous than those of the Latin army. Further, one sees that in the managing of the battle two accidents arose w hich had not arisen before and of which later examples are rare. In order to hold firm the spirits of the soldiers and to keep them obedient to their command and decided on combat (since “firm” means obedient and decided, see I 15), one of the two consuls killed himself, and the other killed his son. Then Machiavelli restates from Livy the parity of the armies, now in language, order, anti arms, since they kept the same mode in battle and the orders and heads of orders had the same names. The introduction of names gives us an inkling of w hy Machiavelli, w ith longer 1. S., p. 314n35. 2. See the quotation in il 13 for Livy’s only mention of slavery regarding this battle; the Latin praetor claimed he wanted only equality between the Latins and the Romans, VIII 4. 4. 3. Livy has the armies alike in language, customs, kind of arms, and above all in military orders, VIII 6. 15.

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hindsight than Livy, could call this the most important battle the Romans ever fought. Then, contradicting these statements, Machiavelli says for himself that the two armies were equal in force and virtue, and it was necessary that “something extraordinary” make the spirits of one army more obstinate, for victory consists, as he has said before, in this obstinacy. “Something extraordinary” seems to be beyond the reach of “every reason”; in the previous consideration of obstinacy in 115, he had praised the Samnites for generating the necessary obstinacy in the spirits of their soldiers, w hile remarking that on the occasion in question, Roman virtue had overcome Samnite obstinacy (see also II 2, beg.). Here we have no reference to religion but rather to something extraordinary in the character of “two accidents” in w hich “partly chance, partly the virtue of the consuls” caused Torquatus to kill his son and Decius to kill himself. Torquatus had his own son executed for having fought a single combat, though success¬ fully, contrary to orders;4 this w as by chance. But Decius did not kill himself; he brought on his own death by throw ing himself against the enemy in an act of religious devotion, draw ing the anger of the gods on himself and thus expiating the sins of the Romans: this w as by virtue.5 Machiavelli carefully avoids refer¬ ence to religion. If any reader still needed to be convinced that Machiavelli speaks obliquely in the Discourses, he could try to think that Machiavelli forgot to speak of religion because of some extraordinary accident. But if he does speak obliquely, what docs he say? Machiavelli presents the two accidents as equally effective, by chance or by virtue, to produce obstinacy in an army, and to do so he neglects the religious character of Decius’ action. Livy, on the other hand, enlarges upon Decius’ sacrifices and praises the old-time, native religion there displayed, in contrast to the new-fangled foreign religion of his day.6 He allows that Torquatus’ con¬ demnation of his son made the soldiers more obedient to their leader and helped to w in the battle, but he calls it an “atrocity” and says that the orders of Manlius (Torquatus) not only made men shudder then but became a model of severity for posterity.7 From Livy’s view that Decius’ action was a laudable sacrifice and Torquatus’ action an atrocity we are led by Machiavelli’s neutrality between the two acci¬ dents to a possible third view in which Decius’ action was an atrocity and Torquatus’ action a laudable sacrifice. In this possibility we easily recognize the Christian religion. Indeed the two accidents make a contrast of classical and modern religion: the classical sacrifice of oneself to relieve the minds of one’s countrymen of religious fear and thus to make them capable and worthy of 4. Livy, V111 7. 5. Livy, V111 6. 12-14, 9. 4-14; S., p. 135. 6. Livy, VIII 10. 11-11. 1. 7. Livy, VI11 7. 20-8. 1. Livy also says that the difference between the Roman and Latin armies, according to both, was made by the virtue of Torquatus alone, not of both consuls, VII1 10. 8.

THE MODERN ARMY

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honor in this world, as opposed to the Christian saerifice by God of 11 is son in order to charge men with guilt and impel them tow ard the honor of the other world. W hen Machiavelli contrasted Gentile and Christian sacrifices in II 2, he spoke pointedly of the many animals killed in the former; now he both corrects that exaggeration and supplies the contrast. This most important battle that the Roman people ever fought in any w ar w ith any nation, w hich made the losers slaves of the winners, could have gone either way and was decided by two accidents. It might have gone the other w ay if the “Latins” (w hose equivalent identity Machiavelli has developed sufficiently in II 1 3 to 16) had done of delib¬ erate purpose the extraordinary sacrifice that the Romans did by chance or if they had copied the extraordinary action of Brutus in killing his sons, described in I 16 as the action w hich saved the liberty of the Roman people.

Next Machiavelli says he will not repeat the Roman order of battle which he says Livy gives at length, but w ill discuss “only what I judge notable.” From w hat he has said, it would seem that none of it was notable in the most impor¬ tant battle, but in fact the order proves to explain the “extraordinary thing” that decided the battle. From the neglect of this order “by the captains of these times” arise many disorders in armies and in battles. The Romans used “three principal divisions” called stiere in Tuscan—the astati, principi, and triari—in such a w ay that if the first line w ere defeated, it could fall back into gaps left in the second line to receive it, and if the second were defeated, it could be received in the still larger gaps left in the third line, at which moment when the three divisions make “one body,” the “matter is brought to the triari,” or in Tuscan, “we have played our last stake.” These lines are all infantry assumed to be on the defense; the cavalry is to be found on each line w here from its form and location it is called the “wings.” Now the ancient discipline is not of slight importance, for w hoever orders himself so that he can re-form three times during a battle has to have fortune his enemy three times in order to lose, or to have against him a virtue that is capable of conquering him three times. It appears from this formulation that good fortune is laek of virtue in one’s enemy. But, he continues, whoever stands only the first shock, like all the Christian armies today, can easily lose. These armies have lost the method of receiving one line into another because at present “battles are ordered with one of these two disorders”: either they put their lines shoulder to shoulder w ith one another to make an array wide across and thin in depth, or w hen they reduce the w idth in the manner of the Romans, the lines are so crowded that the front lines strike and impede the rear. Two examples are supplied to illustrate the inflexibility of modern w arfare. The Spanish and French armies in the battle at Ravenna, where, Machiavelli remarks lightly, the French captain by the name of “monsignor de Fois” died, w ere ordered w ith one of the “modes” described above, a w ide line. In a large field modern armies adopt this method to avoid the inconveniences of the other, w hieh they use nevertheless, without thinking of any remedy, w hen the eoun-

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try constrains them. And they ride through the country with the same disorder—for Machiavelli now suddenly speaks of cavalry—as w hen the Floren¬ tines, being defeated by the Pisans, were damaged most by friendly cavalry which, being in front and driven back by the enemy, plunged into the Floren¬ tine infantry and broke it. Machiavelli quotes the assertion of the head of the Florentine infantry—made many times in his presence—that he had never been defeated except by the cavalry of his friends. The Swiss, “who are the masters of modern w ar” (perhaps because they are the only modern people to live like the ancients in religion and military orders, I 12), take care above all things when fighting alongside the French to put themselves to one side so that friendly cavalry, if repulsed, does not strike them. Machiavelli admits that although these things appear easy to understand and very easy to do, none of our contemporary captains imitates ancient orders and corrects the modern. They have divided the army into three parts, calling them advance guard, battle (battaglia), and rear guard, but they do not use them except to command the army in its quarters; so often all these bodies suffer the same fortune. The excuse is that the violence of artillery does not permit the use of many ancient orders, to which matter Machiavelli will turn in the next chapter, where he w ill examine whether artillery prevents the use of ancient virtue. These two parts of the chapter do not have much literal sense. After the first part we do not hear again of “obstinacy,” supposedly the critical difference between the Romans and the Latins. Instead we are given a review of the Roman order of battle from w hich the critical difference betw een the Romans or the ancients and the moderns in their battles among themselves can be seen. While the Romans had three chances to w in, the moderns have only one;8 the moderns make the two mistakes of forming a wide front or else a mass of three lines w ithout gaps. Yet the examples do not illustrate the mistakes. At Ravenna the battle w as admittedly very well fought for modern times, and besides, the mistake of forming a wide front derives from the acknowledged difficulty of re-forming three lines w ithout gaps. Of this second mistake there is no illustra¬ tion, but only a puzzling turn of thought to the damage caused by friendly cavalry. Such an inconsequential argument must be examined for its nonliteral sense, in the case of II 16-18 more elaborate as well as somew hat more remote from the literal than elsewhere in the Discourses. One may begin with the replacement of ostinazione, what could be called the spirited aspect of warfare, by the review of the Roman order of battle. In I 15 and II 2 Machiavelli had spoken of obstinacy defeated by virtue; here it is replaced by an order w hich has a “form.”9 The form has the peculiarity that it makes one “body” not only at first but twice later when the order is remade into a “body” (the word occurs three times in this context); this action of the form does not create a “spirit” (animo) much less a 8. A.G. Ill (417). 9. “Form” is not used in the passage in A.G. on the order of infantry, 111 (399); but see 111 (405).

THE MODERN ARMY

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“soul” (anima), a word that never occurs in either I he Prince or the Discourses; but it replaces “obstinacy.” Obstinacy is to be understood as an order or form of human bodies in self-defense. Men defend themselves w ith the forms or princi¬ ples by which they distinguish themselves, but these forms must never aseend above body because if they do, they w ill be used as the foundation for tyranny over human bodies. Thus for Maehiavelli the forms are visible; they are orders and their cause is in their makers. I he Roman order he describes makes one body of three lines and makes it three times, or it makes one of three and three of one. This might be called the spiritual aspect of modern Rome reduced to and represented in the w arfare of ancient Rome. It is very reasonable to find the spiritual aspect represented as warfare, for the conversion of the world had been represented as warfare by Christians and especially by Christian preachers before and since Maehiavelli, and above all by Savonarola, w ho showed Maehiavelli before his eyes how the conversion of a people can be accomplished.10 Then the most important battle that the Roman people ever fought in any war with any nation, from Machiavel1 i s as opposed to Livy's view point,[w as the one they lost to the Christian arm_y,j lighting on the spiritual level. do light on this level and to convert the world, Christian preachers must urge the claim of loyalty to the other world above and before all claims from this world. Though the other world cannot of course exclude all this-worldly loyal¬ ties, its claim cannot be established at all if it is not argued uncompromisingly, because the other world docs not exist unless it exists on a higher level. Thus the “obstinacy” of a Christian is alw ays engaged to defend his paramount allegiance and its earthly instruments, never to defend subordinate loyalties for the value they have as such. This world has no value “as such,” anti the mistaken belief that it has is the source of every trial of faith to the Christian. It is this charac¬ teristic of the modern religion, of course more prominent in its time of origin and in its periods of expansion and reform, to which we may suppose Maehiavelli refers w hen he says that the captains of his times risk everything in the first shock. Though they use three lines nominally, the lines are inseparable from the last line of defense and therefore from each other. These captains cannot adopt any particular human institution or virtue as their first line of defense, for every worldly good considered by itself is an attachment to this world. The militant Christian is alw ays playing his last stake, and cannot bide his time w ith lesser goals than salvation. Maehiavelli, how ever, can take advan¬ tage of a feature of the Roman battle order w hich Livy mentions, that the three lines were distinguished by age, the youngest being in front.11 I le can fight his war over generations because he can both offer immediate objectives and suffer 10. NM would agree with Savonarola’s observation: “The philosophers do not make much war. They dispute and spat with each other a little and when the dispute is over, there is no more war.” Savonarola himself carried on war relentlessly under Capitano Crista. Prediche sopra Ezecbiele, Rol>erto Ridolfi ed., 2 vols. (Rome, 1955), II 126. See also Dante, Paradiso X11 37; Lefort, p. 567. 11. Livy, VIII 8. 6-8. Consider the youth, stronger in body, used by the Roman pilus to defeat his Latin adversary, VI11 8. 16-18.

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short-term losses that are not ultimate. His strategy, translating Latin into Tuscan, will be to find or create gaps in these lines, that is, to divide the Christian armies with selective appeals and to give each body of Christians the illusion that it can defend itself separately without having to defend the Chris¬ tian army as a whole. In this way he can attack Christianity without attacking it as such, or without attacking all Christians. The ostinazione (or “firm spirit”) Machiavelli considers here and in the chapter on the obstinate defense of freedom by ancient peoples (II 2) is clearly classical thymos. The ancient peoples, however, defended their freedom against Rome as another power of this world. Machiavelli must defend this world as a whole against Rome as the representative of the other world. In the new polemical situation, where ancient spirit must be defended against the modern, the charac¬ ter of ancient spirit undergoes a change. To defend this world one must “ac¬ quire” it from the other world and so liberate acquisitiveness, which in the classical view is essentially economic, from the political restraint implied in the notion of defense. As we have noted, Machiavelli uses the word “acquire” in the sense of “conquer.” When defending the honor of this world against the other world, it becomes difficult to limit the desire for honors by a standard beyond

II 17

honor which might be or in practice is confused with the claim of the other world. Accordingly, we shall see Machiavelli’s army go on the offense in II 17. Artillery is the central factor in the modern army, and the chapter on artillery is at the center of the second book and of the Discourses, the seventeenth and the seventy-seventh chapters respectively. It considers whether the opinion held universally of artillery is true, that the superiority of modern artillery makes it impossible to imitate the ancients in “many orders” or to make use of “ancient virtue.”12 Its heading is: “How much artillery should be esteemed by armies in present times; and whether the opinion universally held of it is true.” At the center of the work, then, we find Machiavelli’s challenge to a universal opinion of his day which obstructs his enterprise. The opinion regards progress in the arts, particularly military technology; it does not concern Christianity. Or does it? On the level of spiritual warfare, artillery was the great innovation of the religion that is responsible for the differences between the ancients and moderns according to Machiavelli, and so the “violence of artillery” alleged in excuse by modern captains constitutes the obstacle to imitation of the ancients. We may take “artillery” to mean in its nonliteral sense the method of converting peoples through the power of the Word, as propaganda. With much effort against universal opinion and all the evidence, Machiavelli shows that the use of artil¬ lery has not been an advance in ordinary w arfare; he does this to suggest how it has been an advance in spiritual w arfare, in the bringing of new7 modes and orders.13 I he chapter begins w ith a reference to the Italian use of the French w ord for 12. A.G. Ill (412-413). 13. “Artillery” occurs thirty-nine times in 11 17.

THE MODERN ARMY

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battle, giornata. Machiavelli then lays out (and follows) an explicit outline as he considers three opinions or three parts of the “universal opinion of many” (this is an opinion of many about everything): first, that if artillery had existed in the times of the Romans they would not have been permitted, or not so easily, to seize provinces and make their peoples tributaries, nor would they have made such mighty acquisitions; second, because of modern firepower, men cannot use or show their virtue as they could in antiquity; third, that one comes to battle w ith greater difficulty now than then and cannot retain the same orders as in those times, so that in time war w ill be reduced to artillery. Machiavelli says he judges it is not “outside the subject” to “dispute” whether these opinions are true, an unnecessary remark unless the subject is wider than it seems so that, for example, disputation is the French notion of battle. I le now specifies the opin¬ ions as two: how much artillery has increased or diminished the strength of armies, and whether it takes away or affords opportunities for good captains to “operate virtuously.” The questions correspond to the first two opinions and raise more directly than they the issue of the alleged superiority of the moderns in artillery. Machiavelli will have to admit that artillery has increased the strength of armies but he w ill suggest that opportunities at least for “good captains” remain. Responding to the first opinion, that the Romans would not have made the acquisitions they did make if artillery had existed, Machiavelli distinguishes between war made tor defense and tor offense—a new distinction in Rook II, as in II 12 fighting at home and aw ay from home w ere both presented as defensive. He believes artillery does much more harm to the defense than to the offense. But he begins w ith the defense and distinguishes betw een defending from inside a land or fortified city (terra) and from inside a stockade (stcccato). I le adopts the view point of the defender, conceding that artillery is an aid to the offense, and then to conclude this disputation merely says that since the Romans w ere on the offensive, they would have had a greater advantage and would have made their acquisitions even more quickly. Why then does he show how to defend against artillery rather than how to attack with it? As always, we must look at his general remarks in the light of the requirements of his own enterprise, which begins as a defense not merely of this or that city or land, of Florence or Italy, but more than these, of the “earth” itself. That is w hy he chooses the word terra14 when he could have said citta, which he does say once to make us wonder why he does not say it consistently. But as we have also seen, obstinacy in defense of the “earth" requires a politics of acquisition, and Machiavelli had to identify himself both w ith the defenders against artillery and w ith the acquisi¬ tive Roman empire. This he did by minimizing the value of artillery. Machiavelli begins this task w ith a further distinction betw een a small land, “as are the greater part of fortresses,” and a large land. A small land is indefensi14. Terra occurs nineteen times in 1117; see the synonymous use of terra and citta in I 13.

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blc against artillery, which in a few days knocks down the walls, however great; and whoever is within is lost unless he has space to hide in ditches and shelters. In the face of this clear advantage for artillery, Machiavelli vigorously grasps the feeble consolation that the defenders at least cannot repel a mass attack, through breaches in the wall made by enemy artillery, with their own artillery! Italian attacks, very properly called “skirmishes” (scaramucce) could be repelled with artillery, but not those of the vaunted “ultramontanes.” For example, the Vene¬ tians with their artillery failed to repel a French attack, descending from a French fortress in Brescia, for “monsignor di Fois” (resurrected for this example after his death in II 16) had his troops dismount and seize the rebellious city, passing among the Venetian artillery w ithout receiving any notable damage. This was an attack from a fortress on a rebellious terra, not the defense of a city from besiegers; apparently the “French” know how to deal with rebels w ho try to use artillery against them. Whoever defends himself “in a small land,” for not having space to escape the artillery by retiring behind ditches and shelters to (we suggest) inconspicuous worldly concerns, is soon lost. But if you are defending a large land— Machiavelli now speaks familiarly—artillery is even so without comparison more useful to whoever is outside than inside; artillery is more useful to the outside force, for if you are inside you must raise your artillery “from the level of the earth,” but you cannot lift artillery of the size and power that anyone outside can bring, since “one cannot manage great things in small spaces.” The reader may think Machiavelli is doing w ell enough at this task. Besides, even if you lift the artillery you cannot protect it with trustworthy (fedeli) and secure shelters. So it is impossible for the defender to keep his artillery in “high places” if those outside have much pow erful artillery themselves; and if they bring it to “low places,” it becomes in good part useless, as w as said above. Thus one must defend a “city” (citta) with the arms (con le braccia) as w as done in antiquity, and with small or light artillery. T his last has the disadvantage of requiring low; w alls almost buried in the ditches; so in case of hand-to-hand combat the w alls may be beaten dow n and the ditches filled up. In sum, Machiavelli does not advise fighting fire w ith fire in defense, either by the ruler defending a small land or by the philosopher defending a large land. As to gathering in a camp inside a stockade, the alternative to defending oneself inside a land, Machiavelli now says it is done for the purpose of avoiding combat or of fighting “at your convenience or advantage.” Ordinarily, however, you have no better means to keep from fighting than did the ancients (Machiavelli still addresses his friend), and sometimes, because of artillery, you are at a greater disadvantage. The enemy may have the advantage of the ground and be “higher than you,” or may come upon you before you have completed your embankments and covered yourself w ith them. Machiavelli again instances the battle of Ravenna, where the Spanish were dislodged by French artillery and forced to fight; the French, as alw ays, held the higher ground. But if the

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side of your camp is high enough and you are well entrenched, the enemy will not attack you and will resort to methods used in antiquity when “one \ uno\ w as with his army” where he could not be hurt, such as overrunning the country, taking and besieging lands friendly to you and impeding your supplies. By such methods those who ordinarily do not w ish to fight, the philosophers w ho do not seek worldly honors, would be deprived of the support and tolerance they receive from political men and forced to “come to battle”, as happened in antiquity. But in battle, as he will say below, artillery does not work well. The Romans, he concludes, made almost all their wars to attack others rather than to defend them. “If the things said above are true,” that is, since artillery is an aid only to the offense, and the Romans were on the offensive, they would have made their gains more quickly w ith artillery. In answering the first objection to reviving ancient virtue today, Machiavelli concedes that the ancients should not simply be imitated. For example, the men w ho ordinarily avoid combat and fight w hen they must on the defensive might find it useful and necessary to go over to the offense, w here artillery w ill be an advantage to them against enemy fortresses. Coming to the second point, Machiavelli restates that men cannot “show” their virtue as they used to in ancient times; before he had said “use and show ” virtue and “operate virtuously.” In this central topic of the chapter, indeed of the work, he does not consider how artillery might have reduced the need for courage in soldiers and the rew ard for virtue in armies, but confines himself to the greater danger of death to w hich “separated men” and “captains and chiefs of armies” are now exposed because of artillery. I le does not worry about the effect of progress in the arts on morality, as does Rousseau. 11 is concern is for the men of virtue w ho must show themselves—those separated men who “scale a land” (that is, climb the walls of a city) or captains to whom it is no help to stay in the rear or to be protected by very strong men; such men are exposed targets to artillery. Yet they seldom suffer “extraordinary harm,” because wellfortified cities are not scaled, and the situation is brought to a siege, as with the ancients. The ancients too had “things to shoot w ith,” which, if not so “furi¬ ous,” had the same effect as to killing men. Indeed, as to the death of captains and condottieri, more w ere killed w ith the ancients in ten years than were killed in the last twenty-four years in Italy, when two were killed by artillery, lor monsignore di Fois w as killed by steel not by fire.15 W as it that he could not be spoken to (I 58)? If men do not show their virtue particularly now , Machiavelli coneludes, it is not from artillery but from the bad orders and w eakness of armies, for lacking virtue in the whole, they cannot show it in the part. Virtue is still used, it would seem, but not shown because the orders of modern armies do not permit it, and therefore it is not in the whole. To be in the w hole, virtue must be show n in the 15. Three captains dead in 24 years; three plus x in 10 years: would that make seven in 34? This would suggest the natural decay of virtue.

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orders that articulate and constitute the whole; the orders of modern armies must be brought into line with nature. But to bring the whole into being, it is enough to show virtue in orders not immediately visible as a w hole to everyone. We have seen that Machiavelli’s political science is by design not avow edly Chris¬ tian (I 52) and even avowedly anti-Christian (II 14), but this does not mean he is unaware of the danger of unconcealed personal leadership of his enterprise. The third opinion that one may not fight hand-to-hand (now added) and that war will be conducted entirely by artillery is altogether false (that is, the first two opinions were partly true). T his view' w ill alw ays be held by those w ho w ish to handle their armies according to ancient virtue, for he w ho w ishes to make a good army must with feigned or real exercises accustom his men to approach the enemy, to wield the sword, and to stand chest to chest w ith them. He should rely more on infantry than on cavalry, and if he does so, he w ill find that artillery becomes “altogether useless.” Infantry, he says, can now avoid artillery more easily than in antiquity it could avoid the attack of elephants, chariots, and other unaccustomed devices. We see Machiavelli instructing a captain in the instruction of his army, not now said to be on the defense, and also now capable of learning how' to meet artillery. He does not explain w hy it should rely on infantry more than cavalry. Reliance on infantry is not said to secure either obstinacy or virtue, unless both are show n in hand-to-hand com¬ bat, including feigned exercises. He implies that artillery harms only those unprepared for it, as he says that the Roman infantry alw ays found a remedy for such devices. There is more time to seek one, too, since artillery can hurt you for a shorter time than can elephants and chariots! Infantry can easily escape artillery either by moving under cover afforded “by the nature of the site” or by dropping on the ground {terra) w hen it fires. Even this has been shown unnecessary by experience, for heavy artillery especially cannot be balanced so that it does not go high and miss you or go low' and not reach you. When armies come to hand-to-hand combat, it is clearer than light that artillery cannot harm you: if it is in front you make it your prisoner; if behind, it hurts friendly forces before you; if on the flank, it shoots too high or too low. 1 hese are slurs on all gunners but the kind Machiavelli is shooting at. The Sw iss, he says, fighting w ithout artillery and cavalry, recently defeated the French, who were armed with artillery, inside their fortresses at Novara in 1513. Then, as if he had gone too far in the enthusiasm of argument, he allows that artillery can be used if it is guarded by walls, ditches, or embankments and on the flank if it is deployed “outside the orders,” w here if charged by cavalry it can take refuge behind the legions as with the ancients. Whoever reckons oth¬ erwise does not understand and puts faith in a thing that can easily deceive him, for if the I urk won a victory using artillery, it w as only by virtue of frightening the enemy’s cavalry w ith the unaccustomed noise. Here is a promising tactic.16 16. This is too much for Father Walker, who pronounces that NM’s statement is “without serious foundation” (11 120). Hut all of NM’s jokes have a serious foundation. Cf. A.G. IV (432).

THE MODERN ARMY

II 17

II 18

243

Machiavelli concludes that artillery can be useful to an army when it is “mixed w ith ancient virtue,” but w ithout that, it is “very useless” w hen put up against a “virtuous army.” Considering the concessions made to the offensive power of artillery, w e suppose the “virtuous army” to be on the offensive. Given the undesirable progress of the moderns in warfare, the need to mix artillery w ith ancient virtue is an important restatement of Machiavelli’s project of im¬ itating the ancients. In the seventy-eighth chapter Machiavelli continues to depreciate modern advances in warfare, now those in cavalry. It is the only chapter of the Discourses to refer to the “authority of the Romans” in its title: “I low by the authority of the Romans and by the example of ancient militia one ought to esteem infantry more than cavalry.” Authority, the theme of the chapter, is connected to its topic, “cavalry.” Authority arises from the need to show virtue which is dis¬ cussed in II 17. The chapter begins w ith reference to the many reasons and examples by which one can clearly demonstrate how much more the Romans in all their military actions esteemed “militia” on foot than on horse. “Many reasons” re¬ place the “authority of the Romans” in the chapter title. Of the many examples “one sees,” the first is the dismounting of the Roman cavalry in a battle against the Latins to come on foot to the aid of the hard-pressed infantry, from which “one sees manifestly” that the Romans trusted their cavalry on foot more than on horseback. Of course, one sees no such thing; perhaps one sees instead that an example offers a visible authority at a certain distance from reason. There are several instances of “dismounting” in this chapter, w hich Machiavelli says the Romans alw ays found the best remedy in their dangers. Livy says in this case that the spirit of the foot soldiers w as restored w hen they saw the young nobles on equal terms w ith them;17 and beginning from this report we might imagine that for Machiavelli, “dismounting” means laying aside authority and putting one’s feet on the ground. It also suggests a w ay of “going to the people,” and we should not overlook the obvious fact that infantry is the popular and the repub¬ lican branch of militia, w hile the cavalry are distinguished by w ealth.18 To this example one should not oppose the opinion of I lannibal (compare his authority, II 12) w ho, seeing at the battle of Cannae that the consuls had had their cavalry dismount, said mockingly, “I should prefer that they give them to me in chains.” Machiavelli, for the only time in the Discourses, translates Livy’s Latin into Italian.19 He says that although this opinion w as put in the mouth of a most excellent man, nonetheless if one must follow authority, one should believe in a Roman republic, w ith many most excellent captains rather than in one Hannibal. As we observe Machiavelli dismantling Hannibal’s authority into Livy’s and then into his ow n, we are induced to suppose that authority is built 17. Livy, 11 20. 11. 18. Livy, II 20. 10-11; Polybius, VI 20. 9; A.G. 1 (358). 19. S., p. 41; cf. W., II 120n2.

244 II 18

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by putting one’s own opinions in someone else’s mouth, that is by a kind of translation out of the vulgar and the vernacular into words more dignified and remote. Machiavelli gives next two or three “manifest reasons” without regard to authority. First, a man on foot can go many places where a horse cannot go; and infantry can be put into order and reordered, while cavalry can hardly be ordered and cannot be reordered if disturbed. Surely one could find a more manifest reason than this one-sided, though halfhearted, effort in support of infantry, unless we are to suspect that “man on foot” means a man free to go where manifest reasons guide him and to plan orders that cannot be upset by new accidents. Second, cavalry is liable to a ridiculous disproportion between horse and man: many times it happens that a spirited horse is ridden by a cowardly man and a cowardly horse by a spirited man. This reason becomes more and more laughable as its serious meaning becomes manifest. Third, Machiavelli says that “ordered” infantry can easily defeat cavalry and only with difficulty be defeated by it. He calls this statement an opinion, not a reason, and it is corroborated by the authority of “those who give rules in civil affairs” as well as many ancient and modern examples.20 These political scientists report that in early times wars were made with cavalry because there was no order for infantry, but w hen infantry was ordered, it quickly became known how much more useful it was than cavalry. Since events in early times are not manifest and cannot be ignored, one must resort to authority; but in securing corroboration for authority, one relies on it know ingly; one relies on authority only when supported by reason; one relies on reason. Machiavelli’s manifest reasons need to be corroborated by authority, for he is a man and men need authority, but they should make their own authority, guided by reason (compare I 18). The corroboration is supplied on the authority of those w ho give rules on civil affairs, not military affairs, but the military analogue to political science is giving rules on the ordering of infantry. What, then, did political science re¬ place, comparable to the use of cavalry in w ars? Was political science not an ordering of human justice by reason replacing divine, punitive justice that rested on authority? The latter w as the cavalry of early times. Machiavelli adds that cavalry is not for these reasons unnecessary to armies in scouting, in over¬ running and pillaging countries, in following the enemy when in flight, and in being “in part an opposition to the cavalry of the enemy.” But the “foundations and the sinew” of the army, and that which one should esteem, must be the infantry. Machiavelli now opens a view' of the political implications of cavalry. Among the sins of Italian princes which have made Italy the slave of foreigners, he says, there is none greater than to have taken little account of this order (infantry) and to have given over every charge (cura) to men on horseback. The Italian militia 20. Aristotle, Politics 1297b 17-22; S., p. 290.

245

THE MODERN ARMY

II 18

has been reduced in the past tw enty-five years to men of no status who are like captains of fortune. Since they lacked subjects from which to draw infantry, they found it cheaper to pay a small number of cavalry w ith which to maintain their reputation. Then to facilitate this arrangement they took aw ay the reputa¬ tion of infantry and gave it all to cavalry to such an extent that in the largest army there w as the least portion of infantry. Machiavelli’s insistent use of the past tense for events that have occurred in the past twenty-five years makes them seem older. Thus the prevalence of cavalry is traced to the greatest sin of hiring mercenaries on the part of the disarmed Italian princes, the same w ho do not respect the truest truth by arming their own people (I 21). It is their sin or “ignorance” in politics, not a merely technical and much exaggerated mistake of tactics, that Machiavelli blames.21 Since the sin is in the reliance on the oth¬ erworldly support that princes erroneously believe w ill substitute for the only worldly reliance, one’s ow n armies or an armed people, there is ambiguity in Machiavelli’s appeal to the “authority of the Romans” to support the reputation of infantry against self-interested debunking by mercenaries. The mercenaries are indebted to, if they are not identical w ith, those of the “religion of the Romans” (111) who counsel princes to remain disarmed. But we must not fail to note that Machiavelli, contrary to his practice elsewhere, does not call the condottieri mercenaries.22 Instead of denouncing them as paid soldiers, he draw s attention to their inability to pay a “large number of infantry.” T his large number is not a “multitude” because a multitude is self-sufficient as a body and an army cannot feed or pay itself. There follow six examples full of meaning unnecessary or even contrary to their literal sense, which is to show “more openly” the error of esteeming cavalry more than infantry. For the first w e are told that when the Romans were encamped at Sora23 and a squadron of cavalry came out of the city (fuori della terra) to attack them, chance decreed that the “master of the Roman horse” and his opposite in the Samnite overcome the enemy more w ished to defend themselves be no greater example than

cavalry w ere killed, w hereupon the Romans, “to easily,” dismounted, forcing the enemy if they to do the same, and won the victory. There could this to show how much more virtue there is in

infantry than in cavalry, for if in other instances Roman cavalry dismounted to help the infantry, here they fought other cavalry but judged they could not overcome it unless they dismounted. “I therefore wish to conclude,” Machiavelli says, that an ordered infantry cannot w ithout the greatest difficulty be overcome except by another infantry. But since there was no fight between 21. A.G. pr. (325-326), 11. (367-368); P. 12; S., pp. 159, 198. Cf. Ixfort, p. 562, who does not mark the distinction made between condottieri and princes in regard to reputation, and therefore mistakes NM’s point as a criticism of the influence of money. 22. I F. V, VI; Mansfield, “Party and Sect in Machiavelli’s Florentine Histories,” pp. 234-235. P. 12, 13. A.G. 1 (335-336). 23. Actually it was Saticula. S., p. 322nl46, may be recommended to the attention of Puppo, Opere politiche, p. 437nl2, and Bertelli, Opere 1, 330n4. Livy, IX 22.

246

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infantry and cavalry, the true conclusion is evidently that the Romans thought themselves, and were proved to be, more superior in infantry than in cavalry, and that infantry is superior to cavalry in defending itself against infantry and in attacking cavalry. Machiavelli cut his own path to this non sequitur, because Livy says that the Romans dismounted to save the body of their fallen chief.24 He now locates virtue in the ordered infantry, not merely in the captains or heads of armies (II 17), for the captains have, so to speak, dismounted, uniting their virtue with the obstinacy of men who fight on their feet and preventing the ridiculous disproportion that occurs when men let their horses provide their spirit for them. As the spirit behind human authority should come from the obstinate self-defense of human beings, it is quite fitting that Machiavelli makes his point w ith a Livian passage where cavalry dismount to defend a human body, even if it was dead. In another example there is a match between Roman infantry and Parthian cavalry, and the result, though recounted by Machiavelli w ith begging excuses, w as victory for the latter. Of the two Roman leaders, Crassus w as killed and Marc Antony “virtuously” or “most virtuously saved himself.” But the Parthian cavalry, though favored by open country, never dared to charge either man’s army and Crassus died through being deceived rather than overcome, after the Parthian cavalry had harried him into an “extreme misery.”25 In this example, w here cavalry do fight infantry, cavalry would appear to be superior to infantry in harrying infantry. The difference between Antony’s saving himself (not his army) and Crassus’ miserable death may lie in the “orders” of Antony’s army and the “disorders” of Crassus’. Machiavelli would have a harder time proving how much the virtue of infan¬ try exceeds that of cavalry, he says, were it not for “very many” modern examples which render very full testimony. The nine thousand Swiss, con¬ querors at the battle of Novara, are again mustered into this service, as w ell as the tw enty-six thousand Swiss that later fought the king of France, who if they were not victorious, at least did succeed in fighting virtuously for two days and in “saving themselves” with half their number. Then an ancient example in¬ trudes, quite contrary to the plan just announced, in which Marcus Regulus Attilius is said to have “presumed” he could defeat cavalry and even elephants with infantry alone. He did not succeed, but only because he did not trust sufficiently in the virtue of his infantry. In the last example, Carmignuola, captain for the duke of Milan, attacked sixteen thousand Swiss (making a total of fifty-one thousand Sw iss examples in the chapter26), with cavalry, “presuming” he could break them, but he had to retire after losing many men. Being a very capable man, and “knowing how to grasp new policies in new accidents,” he had 24. 25. Asia, 26.

Livy, IX 22. 9-10. Cf. A.G. II (367-369), where it is said that the argument against eavalry does not hold in and that modern cavalry is better than ancient. According to Walker, the numbers NM gives are incorrect, II 122.

FALSE OPINIONS

II 18

241

his cavalry dismount, then attacked and defeated the Swiss so completely that of all their number, only that part remained alive which was preserved by the “humanity of Carmignuola.” His example reflects the modern situation all the better for being compared with the misplaced ancient example preceding. It shows that the moderns are weak not because they fail to prosecute the right presumption but because they have the wrong presumption, and it show s how much can be gained by a change of presumption.27 Modern princes w ho turn to infantry w ill have the surprise advantage of dismounted cavalry. They w ill also have the humanity w hich results from a polemical rejection of cavalry and which substitutes punishment and remission of punishment according to human necessities for the cavalry of the Church and its mercenaries.28 Though it appears that the three parts of the modern army have been given in reverse order, the effect conforms with Machiavelli’s intent to turn Rome “upside down.”29 It may be suggested also that the three books of the Discourses corre¬ spond to the three parts of an army as described in 11 16-18: Rook 1 on order, Book II on virtue, and Book III on authority and reason. “I believe” many arc aware of this difference of virtue between the one order and the other (infantry and cavalry), but neither ancient nor modern examples nor confession of error (as from Carmignuola) is enough to make modern princes take heed. Is reason enough? Machiavelli promises added life and reputation to the prince who gives life and reputation to “these orders” of militia; perhaps reason allied w ith interest is enough. I le says that as princes deviate from these modes (here identified w ith orders), their acquisitions bring harm rather than greatness to a state and, we must add, to themselves;30 perhaps reason allied with interest and the threat of punishment is enough. I lere Machiavelli exer¬ cises his immanifest authority. We are led to w hat “will be said below,” by the remark on acquisitions.

5.

False Opinions (II 19-22)

To show how the modern army won its victory over the ancients Machiavelli must describe not only its three orders but also its w ay of fighting battles. We recall that the modern army, like the ancient, has three lines of battle which, unlike the ancient lines, all fight at once without being able to re-form in case of successful resistance by the enemy (II 16). The next three sections of Book II take up the three factors of modern rhetoric—false opinions, reasons or causes, and passions—separately. Machiavelli hints that although the three were used together to convert the world to modern ways, they may be used separately to 27. S., pp. 159, 332n54. 28. In A.G. II (365) NM relates this victory of Carmignuola’s without mentioning his humanity. In D. II 16-18, “army” occurs thirty-three times, eleven times in 1117. 29. D. I 37, 5 1, 52. 30. See A.G. VII (517, 520).

248

BOOK II

reconvert the world to ancient ways. In Book II he gives an analysis of the success of modernity so as to prepare us for his undertaking against modernity in Book III. The first line of modern rhetoric consists of the “opinions contrary to truth” (II 19) or “false opinions” (II 22) of which modern men are persuaded and by which they have been converted; five of them are considered in II 19-22. These opinions are said at first to be founded on “bad examples that have been in¬ troduced in these corrupt centuries of ours,” yet bad examples occur by fol¬ lowing false opinion and in accordance with truth or true opinion examples can be “managed”1 or even invented to produce the necessary persuasion. Machiavelli says in II 19 that whereas we can follow the example of the Romans, the Romans had to find their own way by their own prudence without any example.2 The modern situation is that we have the example of the Romans to follow, but which Romans? Our having an example to follow is not easier if the example is ambiguous, if indeed the example of the ancient Romans did not prevent and may even have facilitated the victory of modern Rome. At the same time, the ambiguity of “Rome,” which we see again in the ambiguity of “war¬

II 19

fare,” allows Machiavelli to seem to follow examples while actually making his own and to attack the false opinions by turning them against themselves. In Book II Machiavelli has indicated that acquisition may have dangers and the acquisition of the Roman empire its special danger, but now' he says explicitly in the chapter heading that acquisition by republics that are not w ell ordered and that do not proceed according to Roman virtue, bring about their ruin, not their “exaltation.” “Exaltation” deserves a suspicious look; then we observe that w hile Machiavelli spoke of the danger of deviating from ancient ways at the end of II 18 he now speaks of the difficulty of deviating from the accustomed modern w ays. He w ants to show how to deviate from the bad by the example of deviating from the good, and thereby make modern princes “take heed” (II 18); so he assigns himself the task of persuading an “Italian.” He >w could anyone have persuaded an Italian in the last thirty years, he asks rhetorically, that ten thousand infantry could attack and defeat that many cavalry, plus as many infantry, “as one sees by the example, cited by us several times, at Novara?” The last time he cited that example (in the preceding chap¬ ter) there were only nine thousand Sw iss infantry,3 but then belief in the value of such examples should not be w ithheld because of trifling differences of detail in different reports of the same event. Even though the “histories” are full of such examples, people do not put faith in them but rather corrupt their judg¬ ments w ith false excuses, for example that a squadron of men at arms w ould be capable of charging a rock, but not an “infantry.” They would not consider— 1. Opere 1, 306n2; Opere Politiche, p. 472nl(); S., pp. 134-135. 2. “Example” occurs fourteen times in II 19-21, and not at all in 11 22. 3. Commentators are too embarrassed on NM’s behalf to note the discrepancy; but NM gives us the information that Walker supplied in note 25 to II 18.

FALSE OPINIONS

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249

Machiavelli counters w ith an exaggeration on his side—that Lucullus with a few infantry defeated one hundred and fifty thousand cavalry of Tigranes,4 among whom were a kind of cavalry similar to our men at arms, and also that this fallacy has been exposed by the example of the “ultramontanes” (the Swiss). If they had seen that what the histories tell about infantry is true, they should have believed that all the other ancient orders are true and useful. Machiavelli offers the superiority of infantry as the example to persuade an Italian and readers of histories to accept all other ancient orders. If he could secure belief in this, republics and princes would err less, would be stronger in opposing an attack, and would not put hope in flight; those having “civil life” in hand would know better how to direct it in the w ay either of expanding or of maintaining. They would believe—and now Machiavelli lists seven items in the w ay of expanding which he has discussed: increasing population, making com¬ panions rather than subjects, sending colonies to guard conquered countries, making capital of booty, overcoming the enemy w ith raids and battles and not with sieges, keeping the public rich and the private poor, and maintaining military exercises with the highest seriousness—they would believe these would be the “true way” to make a republic great and to acquire empire. When we last saw the “true w ay” seventeen chapters ago (II 2), it was the way show n by our religion in esteeming less the honor of the world. But “our religion” has been described as the Christian republic (1 12), and there is no difficulty in ascribing each of the seven items to its w ay of expanding. I low does Machiavelli show the true way? Contemporaneous corroboration in one sketchy, misused example solely of the value of infantry, together w ith one exaggeration selected from incomplete and irrelevant accounts in the histories, should be enough to support faith in all the other ancient orders. This is how seeing becomes believing. But if this true way of expanding does not please, one should think that acquisitions through every other w ay bring ruin to a republic and should pro¬ hibit acquisition and think only of defense, as do the republics of Germany. Two pages on the German republics follow which should be compared w ith the discussion in I 55, w here these republics were cited for goodness, religion, and lack of corruption. I lere these qualities are not mentioned; the republics arc not excepted from “our corrupt centuries” and are said to have been able to live in freedom without follow ing the “true w ay” of expansion for a time, only because of certain conditions w hich do not obtain elsewhere. Machiavelli repeats and refers back to the conclusion of 1 6, that it is impossi¬ ble for a republic to live a quiet life in narrow confines, and that through being molested by its neighbors, a republic will have the “wish and necessity to acquire.” The German republics escaped the necessity if not the w ish because they had been able to buy their liberty from the emperors w ith small annual tributes; meanw hile other cities, especially “those w ho arc called the Sw iss,” 4. W., II 122.

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rebelled from the duke of Austria and became strong enough to be feared by all their neighbors. 1 he cause (cagione) why wars do not arise or do not last long among these diverse cities is “that sign [segno] of the emperor,” who though he has no forces, yet has such reputation that he can be a conciliator, intervening with his authority to smother “every scandal.” Yet the greatest and longest wars take place between the Swiss and the duke of Austria (who for many years has also been the emperor), for the duke has received little aid from the com¬ munities, which are poor and envious of his power. They can live, therefore, content with small dominion since they do not have cause, considering the imperial authority, to wish it greater, and they live united because they have enemies nearby ready to seize them if at some time they fell into discord. These are the conditions of quiet in Germany, and “because there are no such conditions elsewhere,” one must expand either by way of leagues or as the Romans expanded. But are these in fact the conditions of Germany alone? Relating them to an Italian, Machiavelli could not help but stir a sense of familiarity, particularly by the rather meticulous description of the emperor’s authority and actions. He goes on to say that “whoever governs himself oth¬ erwise” acquires “empire and not forces,” and instances the harmful acquisitions of Venice and Florence, by w hich they lost even w hen they were victorious. Perhaps these cities should leave to the Italian equivalent of the German em¬ peror the function of constituting empire w ithout forces, and defend their lib¬ erty against him and the Sw iss, who are fearful in Italy as well as in Germany and could serve as a salutary menace in the one place as in the other. It seems to be suggested that in conditions of modern corruption Italy could have the same temporary freedom as Germany if Italians could be persuaded w ith Maehiavelli’s description and against his conclusion to consider their situa¬ tion similar to Germany’s. In that persuasion one could make use of the false opinion that expansion of empire w ithout forces, or the establishment of a sign of authority, or in a word, religion, is the true way of making a republic great; for this opinion, not the preference for cavalry over infantry that introduces it, is the false opinion considered in this chapter. It must also be noted, for the future of Italy’s German republics, that Machiavelli again mentions the method of expanding by a league, which by his description in II 4 seemed to offer a combination of the quiet of Sparta and the empire of Rome. Venice and Florence have less excuse for their harmful acquisitions since they could have followed the example of Rome, the true w ay of expansion, w hereas the Romans had no such example to follow. It comes then as a shock to read that even Rome, one of the best ordered republics and the exemplar of Roman virtue, acquired in Capua a city “full of delights,” w hich, if further from Rome so that the “error of the soldiers” did not have any remedy near by, and if Rome had been in any part corrupt, would have brought about the ruin of the Roman republic. In I 6 we were told that Sparta was ruined by her acquisitions in contrast to Rome, but now Rome itself is said to have become a victim of its

FALSE OPINIONS

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251

victims. This Capua is the same that gave itself to the Romans to be defended (II 9), relying on money to provide tribute (II 10) or on a name rather than a defense (II 11); we have no hesitation in equating it w ith a province further from Rome which Rome conquered later when it w as corrupt. Machiavelli quotes Livy that Capua turned the spirits of the soldiers aw ay from their fatherland,5 and adds that similar cities or provinces take revenge on their conquerors “w ithout battle and without bloodshed,” which is confirmed w ith a quotation from Juvenal.6 Now, Machiavelli asks, if acquisition risks being pernicious to the Romans in times when they proceeded with such prudence and virtue, w hat w ill happen to those who proceed in ways quite removed (discosto) from theirs, who among other errors make use of mercenary and auxiliary soldiers? In I 19 Machiavelli discussed the weakness that follows virtue; here he discusses the weakness that can be found in virtue, w hich from the remarks made on modern states one might define as extending the sign of authority beyond the range of one’s forces. Clearly this error is related to the use of mercenaries and auxiliaries—if it is an error, for many “auxiliaries” have profited from the “harmful acquisitions” that expand empire and not forces.

II 20

On the danger risked by a prince or republic that makes use of auxiliary or mercenary militia, Machiavelli says he w ill speak briefly because he has treated the subject at length in another of his works. I Ic has found, however, an extensive (largo) example regarding auxiliary soldiers in Livy, and so w ill not simply pass the subject by. Auxiliary soldiers he defines as “those a prince or republic sends, captained and paid by it, for your aid.” He does not define mercenaries, nor does he discuss them in Book II, w hose subject is militia, apart from the brief consideration of condottieri in II 18 as users and promoters of cavalry. In The Prince he devotes chapter 12 to mercenaries and chapter 13 to auxiliaries, and in the latter says that auxiliaries are more dangerous than mercenaries because they are all united in obedience to another, while mer¬ cenaries do not constitute a “whole body” and you can make a third man head of them w ho cannot immediately seize such authority that he can hurt you. Obviously Machiavelli is struggling to establish this distinction: you pay mercenaries directly but you also pay auxiliaries somehow, but in the former case you may be able to delay the harm if you furnish the head and buy the soldiers separately, and thus compel the condottiere to serve you, you hope, before he is quite ready to cheat you. Machiavelli would have had no more difficulty than a historian in distinguishing mercenaries from auxiliaries if his purpose were not to call attention to the similarity and to the connection be¬ tween them, and we may suppose that he chooses to discuss only the auxiliaries in the Discourses because they more than mercenaries can be made to resemble the “outside forces” that constitute the army of the Christian republic. 5. Livy, Vll 38. 5. 6. Satires VI 293. NM adds gluttony to luxury as the revenge of the conquered world on Rome; see P. 16 on parsimony and D. I 1, 7, 13, 32; li 5, 6, 8, on hunger. W., 11 311.

252 II 20

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When we examine the largo esemplo of auxiliary soldiers taken from Livy, we do not find it self-explanatory. Onee again it coneerns the Capuans. After the Romans had defended the Capuans against the Samnites, by defeating the Samnite armies in two different places (see II 13),7 they left two legions in Capua to defend against further raids by the Samnites; and the two legions, left idle, took such delight in the city that they forgot their fatherland and their reverence for the Senate, and began to think how they could make themselves masters of the country that they had defended with their virtue. It appeared to them, Machiavelli says from Livy, that the inhabitants were not worthy of possessing those goods that they did not know how to defend.8 Machiavelli will show how this conspiracy w as suppressed w hen he speaks of conspiracies,9 but now' “I say” that of all kinds of soldiers auxiliaries are the most harmful, for they plunder those who hire them as well as those against whom they are hired, “either by the malignity of the prince sending them or by their own ambition.” W e see that the prince or republic sending auxiliaries has become a malignant prince. When men seek aid from outside, from God or nature, it alw ays comes from a prince because God or nature must be understood as ruling men if capable of aiding them, and indeed from a malignant prince because it is unrea¬ sonable to expect his good to coincide with men’s good. It is very strange, moreover, for Machiavelli to call the Roman legions aux¬ iliaries of the Capuans w ho had surrendered themselves to Rome for protection (II 9); they w ere more of a protecting garrison, if not an army of occupation. And the legions were preparing to plunder the “prince” under whose insignia they had come and w ith whose pay they w ere kept, for Capua, according to the previous chapter, was an acquisition harmful to the Romans. The “danger” of an auxiliary army here presented is that it forgets its own patria as much as it ruins yours or that it breaks accords against the intention of the power sending it because it seems to easy to take away the land and the state of those it came to aid. Machiavelli concludes that any treaty w ith an enemy, however hard, is better than bringing “auxiliary men” (genti ausiliarie) to your defense. This emphatic and unbelievable warning surely applies more easily to the “extensive example” of the modern world that has put itself under the protection of the Romans than to this petty and strained instance in Livy, where the Capuans had the aux¬ iliaries precisely because they had been forced to make a hard treaty w ith the Romans. He mentions another example, among the many he could give, of the Regini, who lost their lives and land to the Roman legion put to guard them. He does not mention that this legion w as under the command of a Campanian.10 But, he says, when past things are read w ell and present things reviewed, it w ill 7. Actually it was three battles; the central one, for which NM has a use in III 39, is omitted. Walker, wishing to excuse NM, calls this a “minor engagement,” although Livy says thirty thousand Samnites were put to the sword; W., II 124; Livy, VII 36. 13. 8. Livy, VII 38. 6. 9. Ill 6; see also II 26. 10. Polybius, I 7. 7.

FALSE OPINIONS

II 20

II 21

253

be found that for one who has had a good result w ith the policy, countless have been deceived. Never mind the countless deceived; why are we not told of the one w ho succeeded w ith auxiliary soldiers?

The argument grow s stranger still as it is applied to those who send as w ell as those w ho seek auxiliary soldiers. A prince or an “ambitious republic” cannot have a better opportunity to seize a city than to be asked to send an army for its defense. Such an acquisition is just what was warned against in II 19, and the example here also seemed to show danger to the power sending aid. Therefore, Machiavelli continues, anyone so ambitious as to call for such aid not only to defend himself but to attack others—now ambition is transferred to the party seeking aid—seeks acquisitions he cannot hold. But so great is the ambition of man that to satisfy a present desire he does not think of the evil that soon w ill result. He does not consider that the more he shows liberality, and the more he seems disinclined to seize his neighbors, the more they w ill throw themselves into his lap, as w ill once more be shown by the example of the Capuans. Just as we were about to turn away in disgust at Maehiavelli’s moralism regarding the ambition of man, w e are presented w ith a scheme for satisfying that ambition. As for auxiliaries, clearly they must be examined from all sides, for they must belong to someone, and for that person they are his ow n arms and his reliance on them is not based on a false opinion. The important chapter following is the only one in the section to refer to an example in its title: “The first praetor that the Romans sent to any place w as to Capua, four hundred years after they began to make war.” Machiavelli has discussed, he says, how the Roman w ay of acquiring differs from the w ay of those in the present times who expand “their jurisdiction”; the Romans let those cities that they did not dismantle live under their ow n law s (a correction of II 8), even those that “surrendered” not as companions but as subjects (II 8). I lere is more sport w ith the distinction betw een companions and subjects made in 11 4. In those cities the Romans left “no sign of empire” by the Roman people, as opposed to the I loly Roman emperor of 11 19 w ho had the “sign” and “empire” but not forces; and they continued in this mode until they went outside of Italy and began to reduce kingdoms and states to provinces. “A very clear example” of their mode is the first praetor (in I .ivy a “prefect”1 J) that they sent to Capua, for they sent him not because of their ambition but because the Capuans asked for one, judging it necessary to have a “Roman citizen” to reorder and reunite them, as if the Romans could not have sent a requested praetor because of ambition. Following this very clear example, and constrained by the same necessity, the Anziati also asked for a “prefect” (in Livy they w ere sent “patrons”12), and Machiavelli quotes Livy regarding “this acci¬ dent” and “this new mode of ruling”: “For now not only Roman arms but Roman law s prevail.” He then comments on how this mode facilitated Roman 11. Livy, IX 20. 5. 12. Ibid., IX 20. 10.

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expansion, for cities, especially those used to living in freedom and to governing themselves through their countrymen (provinciali), are content to live more quietly “under a dominion they do not see, even if there is some heaviness in it, than under one which, being seen every day, appears to them to flaunt their servitude every day.” Besides, there is an advantage for the prince: since his ministers do not render justice in these cities, he never takes the responsibility or infamy of the sentence. Then Machiavelli turns to a “fresh example” in Italy. “This new mode of ruling” whieh Machiavelli imputes to Livy’s perspicacity does not of course appear in the quotation, nor does it occur in Livy’s account of the incident or anywhere else in Livy. It is Machiavelli’s own insight in his own best statement of it, hidden government “under a dominion they do not see.”13 He had stated its prineiple in I 34, where he said of consuls choosing the dictator that evils a man makes for himself spontaneously and by choice hurt far less than those inflicted by others; and he had described it in the episode of the Decemvirate, when the Senate “did not wish to show its authority” (I 40), and afterward in the words of two senators advising the plebs that “one should not show his mind” but try to get his desire in every way (I 44). But here, where the topic is foreign affairs and the example if foreign rule, Machiavelli can indicate the source of his discovery. The first praetor was sent four hundred years after the Romans began to make war according to the chapter title, but Maehiavelli says nothing further to explain the connection between beginning to make war and sending a praetor, and Livy says nothing of it at all, in which he is rev¬ erentially imitated by almost all the commentators. Four hundred years before this event,14 Numa, the man who introduced religion to Rome, became king. In Ill, Numa was praised for his skill in the arts of peace, but we have seen religion represented as making war throughout Book II. Moreover, the Capuans asked for a Roman praetor in order to resolve their domestic discords; they sought a foreign or outside remedy which corre¬ sponds to the remedy Numa brought to the Romans. Arts of peace can be understood as making war when the use of religion or having recourse to the gods is understood as a foreign remedy, that is, when human government is seen to be domestic to the “earth” as well as to a particular “land” (II 17). Then the new way of ruling must be traced not to Numa nor to the ancient Romans by a false imputation to Livy but to the modern Romans who perfected the arts of peace or the making of conquests by sending out “praetors” in answer to request. Perhaps they were more akin to “patrons” than “praetors,” for though Machiavelli wrote this chapter about the first praetor, Livy never says the Romans sent a praetor in these two instances, and Maehiavelli does not mention that they sent patrons in the second instance. These “patrons,” then, 13. S., pp. 119, 319n83. 14. Or thereabouts; NM was prevented by a self-denying ordinance from giving precise dates outside his ow n lifetime. The Capuan request was made in 318-317 b.c. and Numa became king in 7 16 b.c. 1 he Romans had of course “begun to make w ar” in the literal sense from the beginning, and according to Livy (1 15. 7), Romulus’ victories began forty years of peace. S., p. 337nl22.

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255

have known how to hide their government behind the providence of God which men freely accept, and their practices are the source of Machiavelli’s “new modes and orders.” But to complete his claim of novelty, he has improved on their unformulated discovery by returning hidden government to armed or secular princes. The Roman praetors in this chapter remind us of the Latin and Lavinian praetors in II 1 3-15, who w ere so full of truth that they seemed to have been sent by Machiavelli himself, in obedience to necessity anti not out of ambition. Machiavelli has blamed the moderns for expanding “jurisdiction” or for seek¬ ing “empire and not forces” (II 19), and he has praised the Roman people for removing every sign of their rule and for allow ing subject cities to live under their ow n law s for four hundred years, yet he has also quoted Livy’s observation that Roman law s (iura) now prevailed in Capua, and could have reported that the Capuans asked for the laws at the same time they asked for the praetor. Perhaps the visibility of the Roman laws kept Livy from discovering the new mode of ruling by a dominion that men do not see. I le may have presumed that men are governed by the government they see every day, as if what is visible to men were consonant with their own government in freedom. But for Machiavelli, w hat we see every day reminds us of our ow n slavery, even the daylight in which we see, and he refuses to align human government with the visible government of things. Vet, one may ask, w as not the Roman jurisdiction as w ide as the Roman empire, and in the case of the modern Romans, is it not far wider? I his difficulty is resolved anti Machiavelli’s intention clarified by the fresh examples he now considers, of which “everyone know s.” I le does not say that they are “very clear,” as he said of the Capuan example. As everyone knows, Genoa has often been occupied by the French, for “that king”, except at the present time, has always sent a French governor to govern in his name. At present, however, Machiavelli says, not through choice but necessity, he has left that city to be governed by itself and by a Genovese governor, and w ithout doubt he w ho considers which way brings greater security to the king and greater satisfaction to the people would, without doubt, approve the latter. Men w ill throw themselves into your lap if you are humane and tame (dimestico) with them. Machiavelli then refers again to the example of the Capuans and Romans, praising the tameness (dimestichezza) and liberality of the Romans w hieh induced the Capuans to run to the Romans asking for a praetor. He could not have praised these virtues in the king of France, whose recent prudence was forced upon him. But why need we go to Capua and Rome for examples when w e have them in Florence and 1 useany, Machiavelli asks. Everyone knows how much time has passed since the city of Pistoia came voluntarily under Florentine rule (imperio). Everyone knows also how much hostility has existed between the Florentines and the Pisans, the Lucehese and the Sienese. The diversity of spirit has arisen not because the Pistoians do not value liberty and do not rate them-

256 II 21

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selves as the others, but beeause the Florentines have always behaved like brothers to them and like enemies"to the others. Without doubt, then, if the Florentines had either by way of leagues or aid tamed (dimesticati) their neighbors and not made them more savage, they would now7 be lords {signori)—or should we say brothers?—of Tuscany. Without doubt we are invited to compare the French example with the Florentine. The king of France is follow ing the approved policy in Genoa, but this is only by necessity: If only he could somehow7 pull in his horns and become of purpose as tame and humane or liberal as the Romans were to the Capuans. The Florentines, however, who were said in II 19 to be overextended in Tus¬ cany, have the more advantageous prospect of converting their burdens into acquisitions on the model of their brotherly love of the Pistoians, for they have demonstrated their ability to fraternize. But the contrast does not become clear until we compare this chapter w ith I 56, where too one encounters the formula “everyone knows” w ith notable frequency. In that chapter everyone knew7 about revelations or signs from the heavens, which Machiavelli, though confessedly lacking knowledge of things natural and supernatural, thought might possibly be attributed to intelligences in the air compassionate to men. Flere instead of heavenly signs are examples of human actions, and the compassionate intelli¬ gence assuming know ledge of things natural and supernatural is his ow n. He now says that men govern prudently when they have removed the signs of government, at least from everyday observation. But the signs of government are not only those of such foreign rulers as the German emperor or the Romans or the king of France, but also, as w e saw7 in I 56, those of rule by the gods or by God, which are signs of grace and anger, especially the latter, indicating to men that they live under and obey higher powers than themselves. Machiavelli transforms signs of divine government into examples for human imitation, appropriating to himself and to humanity the compassion that w as formerly grace. He makes himself like the king of England, w ho, everyone knows, very recently attacked the kingdom of France, and took w ith him no soldiers but his ow n, even though they were not accustomed to fighting (I 21). The “king of France” is open to attack because the claim of his jurisdiction has been extended beyond the capability of his forces, and this overextension has been necessary to the ambition of the disarmed modern princes (the “praetors” or the “auxiliaries”) who must advance not bv their own arms but under the signs of higher powers. Their hidden government could succeed only so long as they persuade men to ask voluntarily for submission to higher pow ers, in w hich case divine government is freely adopted as one’s own. But when men are show n how to interpret signs so as to forestall the intervention of God and His intermediaries, then government becomes truly invisible because it is truly one’s ow n, freely accepted and in accord w ith human necessities. I he government that men do not see uses fraud (II 13) nonetheless for its congruence w ith the truth regarding natural and supernatural things, since it is

FALSE OPINIONS

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as necessary that government exist as that it not be seen. Such a government has a popular character by its concession to and encouragement of the people’s hatred of the nobles, for the essence of its fraud is its seeming denial of the necessity of ambition, expressed in a willingness to see it punished. The fraud is justified in that those who show men how to acquire government over them¬ selves, the disarmed princes such as Machiavelli who defend armed princes, are

22

men of compassionate or humane intelligence. To end the chapter, Machiavelli says “I judge” that arms and force should be reserved for the last place, where and w hen other means do not suffice; he himself leads the w ay, disarmed. The next chapter’s title perhaps gives a reason why Machiavelli, so scornful of hesitation and so appreciative of the quick stroke, should judge that arms and force should be reserved lor the last place: “1 low the opinions of men in judging great things are many times false.” That men’s opinions are false has been and is seen by those w ho find themselves witnesses to men’s deliberations; for if the deliberations are not done by excellent men, they are “contrary to every truth.” It seems then that among those who find themselves witnesses to delibera¬ tions w ith false opinions w ill be the excellent men w hose exclusion from the deliberations gives them the opportunity to make their damning observations. Indeed we are told that excellent men in corrupt republics are unloved, that someone either judged good by a common deceit or put up by men desiring rather the “favors than the good of the universality” is followed, especially in quiet times when excellent men are not needed; and this point will be fully discussed “in its place.” That place, it may be remarked, is 111 16, where the difficulty proves to have the remedy w hich is already implied here: put the state under a continual necessity to use excellent men. Now, how ever, Machiavelli somewhat mysteriously says that the false opin¬ ions are nourished by certain accidents in w hich men w ithout great experience are deceived, accidents, or an accident—for he switches to the singular—which has in itself “many probabilities [verisimili] capable of making men believe that of w hich they persuade themselves regarding such a thing.” Then we are given tw o examples, ancient and modern, of such an accident, but they are not called “examples.” Nor is there any further mention, besides the title, of “judging great things.” Yet a great accident is discussed covertly by means of the parallel between the examples, and it is implied that for judging the false opinions to which it has given rise, excellent men are needed, and fortunately, an excellent man is at hand. “These things were said,” he says, because of w hat the praetor Numisius persuaded the Latins of after they w ere defeated by the Romans and because of what many believed a few years ago w hen Francis 1, king of France, came for the conquest of Milan, which was defended by the Sw iss. I he latter case is discussed at length before we hear again of Numisius so that w e understand the ancient accident in the light of the modern. When Francis 1 decided he would restore Milan to the kingdom he had inherited, he addressed himself,

258 II 22

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Machiavelli says, to Pope Leo X with the hope of gaining his support, but Leo X decided, on bad advice, to remain neutral. In fact, the king made no such address and the pope decided to oppose him,15 but Machiavelli w ishes to show the truer truth of the Church’s neutrality in action. The pope, then, was persuaded (so Machiavelli says) that if Italy were to return to its ancient liberty, it must free itself of both the French and the Sw iss; and since he was unable to conquer either one, separate or together, it was necessary that one conquer the other, and then the Church w ith its friends should attack the victor. There could be no occasion more opportune than the present, for the pope had his army standing by and as the French and the Sw iss both had victorious armies, he could expect a sanguinary encounter and a weakened victor whom he could attack and overcome, and w ith his glory come to be lord of Lombardy and arbiter of all Italy. But the event show ed how' false this opinion w as. After two days the Sw iss were defeated and the pope’s men did not presume to attack the French but even prepared for flight, w hich would not have helped them if it had not been for either “the humanity or the coldness” (not piety) of the king, who did not seek the “second victory” but contented himself w ith an accord w ith the Church. This battle w as one of those cited in 1118, and Pope Leo may have expected the Sw iss w ithout cavalry to defeat the French easily, or perhaps he was one of those surprised by the ability of Francis I to find an unknow n way through an unguarded mountain pass (I 23). But Machiavelli has a different moral to suggest. The pope’s opinion has “certain reasons” which appear true at a distance (discosto), but w hich are altogether foreign to the truth. For rarely does the victor lose many of his soldiers, as soldiers die more often in flight than in battle; and even if he loses heavily, the reputation he gains from victory and the terror that goes w ith it are such that they far exceed the damage from the death of his soldiers. Hence an army that went to meet him with the opinion that he was weakened by victory would be deceived, unless it w as strong enough to fight at any time, in which case the one that fought earlier and won would have the advantage over another. The argument does not seem compelling for bat¬ tles in the field, and as to battles among writers, no writer is mentioned in this chapter.16 Next Machiavelli returns to the “fallacy” of the Latin praetor Numisius, who proclaimed throughout the country after the Romans defeated the Latins that the Romans had been weakened by the battle, and won only the name of victory, and that any small force could dispose of them w ith a new' attack. His proclaiming was certainly not smothered by the reputation the Romans had gained from their victory. But those peoples who believed him gathered a new army and w ere immediately defeated, and suffered that harm that those alw ays suffer who hold a “similar opinion.” Pope Leo held a similar opinion but suf15. W., II 127-128. 16. S., p. 324n 162.

REASONS OR CAUSES

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259

fered very little from it because of the humanity or the coldness of Francis I (Machiavelli is not sure which; compare Carmignuola in II 18), or because Christianity had once won a victory over the Romans which now made it impossible for a modern prince not altogether bad to seek a second victory over the pope. We are reminded that the victory of Christianity had the character of a second victory, of a conquest of the conqueror, by Machiavelli’s significant failure to mention that the battle Numisius considered to be won in name only was the same as the “most important battle that was ever fought in anv way with any nation by the Roman people,” according to II 16. This significant failure was prepared by an insignificant failure, as noted, to mention that Francis I’s battle had been previously discussed.

6.

Reasons or Causes (II 23-25)

We have considered Five false opinions in II 19-22: the opinion that to expand an empire it is enough to extend the sign of rule (II 19); that one may hire mercenaries or request auxiliaries instead of having one’s ow n arms (II 20); that invisible rule is not rule (II 21); that there is no need for excellent men (II 22); and that victories or “first victories” are costly and enfeebling (II 22). These opinions are characteristically modern and, as we have seen, orginally Chris¬ tian, but in regard to each Machiavelli is able to find a Roman example (that is, among the Romans, their subjects, or their enemies) that portends or pre¬ pares the modern practice and indicates the extent of Rome’s responsibility for the success of the modern army and the ensuing infection of the w orld by mod¬ ern corruption.

The four opinions surrounding the central opinion have apparently contrib¬ uted to it, and have helped to establish the fundamental character of the modern sect, which like all religions is fundamentally an instrument of human govern¬ ment. But at the same time, the surrounding opinions are not necessary to invisible rule; they are “separable” from it and Machiavelli separates them, for he accepts the principle of invisible rule and vigorously rejects the specifically Christian accompaniments. Rule is invisible when one has accepted it not merely as agreeable and not necessarily as good but as coming from oneself, in the Christian sense, when one confesses it. For his political interpretation of Christianity Machiavelli advances the wailing of divine necessity by oneself as the reason why men accept a government so emphatically not their own. Yet, for fidelity to the principle of one’s own, w illing freely the providence of God cannot be compared to acquiring the world from God. Invisible rule was invented by the Christians or the Christian priests but not perfected by them because they were faithful and had to remain faithful even in their darkest corruption to the other world that protected them and gave them honor and office; so they were compelled to deprecate the weapons of worldly conquest, however useful and necessary to themselves, and even to hesitate and falter in

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the use of their speeial weapons of worldly conquest by peaceful means when facing divine necessity or calculating their own exigencies. Since they could not pretend that all government comes from man, or that divine necessity becomes human necessity merely because it is freely willed by men, they had to maintain the four false opinions surrounding invisible rule. They had to claim more empire than they had forces for; they had to hire mercenaries and call in aux¬ iliaries; they had to diminish the esteem of human prudence; and they had to make men believe that victors will succumb to the meek. It is true for the moderns above all others that bad as they are, they do not know how to be altogether bad. To show them how to be altogether bad, Machiavelli shows how they first gained the world from the Romans, and for this task he must distinguish according to their political necessity in this world the virtues by w hich Christianity w on its victory from the weaknesses for which it has escaped punishment. It becomes necessary then to seek reasons for the false opinions, a task Machiavelli begins only with the last opinion regarding victories, which had “certain reasons that at a distance [or separated: discosto] appear true but that are altogether foreign to the truth” (II 22). Reasons are separable from opinions because or to the extent that opinions contain an ele¬ ment of authority; the subdued diseussion of reason and the appropriation of divine signs as examples of human prudence in II 19-22 prepare for the re¬ placement of false opinion by reasons in II 23-25. Since all authority not rational ultimately depends on something divine, Machiavelli thought it politically necessary (reason does not require it) to draw the line between reason and authority at the boundary between this world and the next. The reasons for the false opinions reveal the root of their efficacy in human as opposed to divine necessity, the necessity to punish. This central necessity, which is responsible for government, must be expressed, as it soon appears, not in “reasons” that allege opinions but in “causes” that explain the motion of passions. In II 23-25 w e observe a transition from reasons to causes,1 w hich prepares for the follow ing section on passions, II 26-32, the third ele¬ ment in the modern army according to Machiavelli’s articulated explanation. Each element is a line of defense arranged so as to conform to the fundamental tactic of ancient infantry of receiving the forw ard lines into its gaps in case of resistance. By virtue of his own explanation of the modern army Machiavelli re-creates it on ancient principles, with improvements, and shows it in action. II 23

1 he next chapter is the second of three chapters in the form of a sermon, fittingly devoted to the topic of punishment. Its title is: “How much the Ro¬ mans, in judging subjects for some accident that necessitated such a judgment, avoided the middle way.” Machiavelli speaks less of punishment, how ever, than of “judgment” or “judging” in the sense of passing judgment.2 He suggests then 1. In II 23 there are two “reasons” and no “causes”; In II 24, one and four; in II 25, none and four: a total of eleven. On “eleven,” see St. Augustine, De civitate Dei, XV, 20. 2. “Judgment” occurs seven times in II 23; “judging” three times.

REASONS OR CAUSES

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261

the connection between “judging” in the theoretical sense, which is opposed to “believing” (I 17, 18), and judging in the practical sense of punishing. The connection is in the judging of men, for which one makes in theory a judgment of the dignity of man in nature and in practice a judgment of him w ho has not behaved according to the standard set for him by the theoretical judgment or what passes for it. Both judgments are done by discriminating, and in this chapter Machiavelli considers how men must be judged in both related senses. The excellent man of II 22 w ho as a w itness judges great things now becomes the prudent man w ho judges “subjects” in the manner of the Romans, as the false opinions issue in punishable offenses. Such men are to claim the entire “jurisdiction” (II 21) of rule by exercising the pow er of punishing so as to shun the “middle way.” Machiavelli sermonizes from this quotation of Livy: “Now Latium was in such a state of things that they could suffer neither peace nor w ar.' This is the unhappiest of all unhappy states for a prince or a republic, he says, and then he redescribes it to show that it consists in extremes {termini) of unhappiness. To be unable to suffer either peace or w ar is not to be in the middle w ay but to be unable to make war,3 a situation which comes about through bad counsels and policies, from not having measured one’s forces well. Machiavelli here refers back to the chapter on money (II 10) to suggest w hat he means by bad counsel and policies; we are also reminded that they are remediable, and so we are informed, as we were not by Livy, that this most unhappy condition need not be, or need not have been endured. Lor the Latins, to be unable to suffer either peace or w ar was to find the enmity and the friendship of the Romans equally harmful to them—such was the consequence of losing the most important w ar the Romans ever fought (II 16). Then, w ithout specifying further the imprudence of the Latins that has cost them his sympathy, Machiavelli turns to the Romans who find themselves in the happy situation, as we may suppose it, of having the Latins in their hands for “judgment.” Since this judgment is notable and deserves to be observed for imitation when similar occasions are given to princes, he says he wishes to adduce the words of Livy put in the mouth of Camillus, w hich vouch for both the mode of expanding used by the Romans and the w ay in w hich, in judgments of state, they alw ays avoided the middle w ay and turned to extremes (estremi). We see that Machiavelli has put the principle of judging parallel to the principle of expansion, so that he can display the situation of judging an entire conquered people as a “judgment of state,” rather than the more nonpolitical judgment upon individuals w ithin a state for particular offenses. Indeed he never specifies any offense of the Latins nor defends the right of the Romans to judge them. “For a government is not other than holding subjects in such a way that they cannot or ought not harm [offendere] you, which is done either by making 3. NM reverses the order of peace and w ar in quoting Livy above, VIII 13. 2.

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yourself secure against them in everything, taking from them every way of harming you, or by benefiting them in sueh a w ay that it would not be reason¬ able that they have the desire to change fortune.” In this definition, govern¬ ment, even the Senate’s government of republican Rome, is so far from ruling for the common good that it could extend to the regulation of one order of beings by another. It says nothing of the dignity of men, whether they be made harmless or benefited, and it implies no reason why such a government would w ish to “hold” men as subjects. Camillus’ words begin, “The immortal gods have made you so powerful in this matter.” This is the second and last reference to “gods” in Book II (the first being in II 1), w hich contains no mention of God. Livy’s Camillus’ words give over the power of judging from the gods to the Senate, stated so as to require that the Senate either destroy all Latium or accept the Latins as citizens, and hence that it do the latter. Then, as the Senate deliberated (Machiavelli says) according to the words of the consul, it brought before it city after city and either benefited or destroyed them, for the Romans never used the “neutral way” of undiscriminating punishment (compare the neutrality of the Church in II 22). The Romans did use a middle w ay betw een destroying and benefiting all the Latins, but this was what Camillus meant, according to Machiavelli.4 I his judgment princes should imitate and Florence should have heeded w hen Arezzo and the Val di Chiana rebelled in 1502. The modern example concerns the judgment of rebels rather than the conquered, in which the Florentines followed the middle way, “most harmful in the judging of men.” They exiled part of the Aretines, condemned part, took from them all their former honors and ranks in the city, and left the city whole; as compared to the Romans, they did not so much take the middle w ay as fail to take it by omitting any benefits, know ing nothing of worldly things (I 38). Machiavelli’s concern for honors appears in these omitted benefits. If someone had advised that Arezzo be de¬ stroyed, Machiavelli continues, he would be answered by those w ho appear to be w iser that there would be little “honor” to the republic to destroy it, because it would appear that the republic lacked the power to hold it. Such “reasons” appear true and are not, for by the same “reason,” one would not have to kill a parricide or a wicked and shameless person because it would be shameful for a prince to admit that he lacked the forces to check a single man. Those w ho hold “similar opinions” do not see that men individually and an entire city together sometimes “sin” against a state so that, for an example to the others and security to himself, a prince has no other remedy than to destroy it. A similar opinion regarding the honor of man would be that nature is a whole of the same kind as the Florentines left Arezzo, w ithout honors and ranks, so that nature’s prince does not care to enforce human standards and punish 4. Cf. Livy, VIII 14. 1-2; S., pp. 156-157, 339nl52, 340nl59.

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human sins and w ith this improvidence relaxes in universal, undiscriminating love lor mankind. Machiavelli gives the specious reasons only of those who argued against destroying Arezzo. Against them he shows that the only way for a government to benefit its subjects so that they cannot reasonably desire more is not to love them but to acquire an empire for them, as the Roman Senate did; but this requires punishing those w hose misfortune is to stand in the way, as the Latins did. The reasons for not punishing point to the general problem of reason versus punishment. Those w ho can afford to reason need not punish, but if it is necessary to reason against punishment, it is necessary to punish. Machiavelli proclaims that honor consists in being able anti knowing how to punish a whole city, not in being able to hold it with a thousand dangers. By this argument the prince must of course punish, and the unstated extreme of universal love w ithout punishment is rejected, for w hat would happen if a parricide such as Cain could continue to err with other brothers and be seen to do so in general shame and scandal? Machiavelli indicates that men would refuse to honor the prince. It the honor of the prince requires that he be honored by men, then he must punish some as examples to others. We will note that punishing for example is to illustrating by example as passing judgment is to judging by observation. The prince’s honor becomes a protection to his subjects if he punishes w ith discrimination. I le must punish a w hole city, not destroy it, or if he destroys it, there must be others to w hom it is an example. Machiavelli says that the prince punishes for his ow n security, that is, not for his own honor, since his honor considered by itself might so raise him above his subjects that he could treat them as inferior creatures, harming or benefiting them according to his whim or their pow er to harm him. As he w ants to be honored, he must accept that he is not a god above men, and his admission of need forms the basis of a common good betw een “government’’ and “subjects.’’ At the same time, the consideration of honor forces government to discriminate among sub¬ jects. When Machiavelli brings up honor in a discussion of punishment, one does not expect that he w ill use it to restrict punishment to deterrence and to modify a harsh definition of government so that honor becomes a middle ground between a prince and his subjects precisely w hen they might seem to be most disjointed by an astonishing punishment. The reasons for not punishing that appear true and are not may be compared to the reasons in 11 22 for not seeking the “second victory,” for judging or ruling conquered subjects is like seeking the second victory over them. Punishing lor deterrence is a middle w ay betw een the extremes of not punishing at all and of punishing everyone, which Machiavelli has established by opposing the Chris¬ tian extremes. His middle way emerges as the opposite of a false extreme, as did that of Livy’s Camillus, and though it resembles the combination of love and force for which he argued in the first sermon (II 3), it presents itself as a prudent extreme against the weakness of the modern middle way. This weakness is

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caused by the inability of Christian princes, in contrast to the Roman Senate, to sustain their power to punish; and that inability can be traced to the false extreme of universal love. We are sent next to the “text of Livy” for the judgment or sentence the Romans gave to the Privernati. Two things are to be noted, we are told: that subjects must be either benefited or wiped out, as was said above; and how much generosity of spirit and/or speaking the truth helps when it is spoken in the presence of prudent men. The Privernati, like the Aretines, had rebelled against those who now judged them, but they or their spokesman answered their judges w ith an unmodern pride. When a Roman senator asked one of the Privernati w hat punishment he thought the Privernati deserved (and his asking is also to be noted), he replied: “That which they deserve who consider them¬ selves worthy of liberty.” And w hen the consul asked w hat peace they could hope for w ith the Privernati if their punishment were remitted, he replied: “If you give a good one, both faithful and perpetual; if a bad one, not lasting.” “The wiser part of the Senate,” for not all the Senate w as w ise (I 53), said two things: that peace would last if made w ith w illing men; and that only those w ho reckon nothing but liberty are worthy to be Roman citizens. So pleasing to generous spirits was this true and generous reply, Machiavelli repeats, and then adds that those w ho treat men otherw ise, especially men used to living in freedom, de¬ ceive themselves and bring about the frequent rebellion and ruin of states. Here the same two contrasting notions are repeated three times: a generous assertion of pride and an appeal to interest. They are assertion that one is worthy of liberty is in effectual rebellious if liberty is not allowed.5 The wiser part of that it would not be honored either by slaves or by

connected because the truth a promise to be the Senate understood rebellious subjects; so

thinking of both liberty and peace it remitted the punishment of those who, it lyingly said, thought of nothing but liberty. How much, then, did it help to speak the truth to prudent men? It helped not at all; for the Senate first had to have the prudence to allow the truth to be spoken, then to interpret it, and lastly the “w iser part of the Senate” had to be dominant so that truth could triumph. The “truth” itself reduces merely to the original alternative of benefiting or destroying subjects, since Machiavelli, as we have seen above, believed that it is possible to have a permanent and lasting peace w ith dead enemies as easily as w ith new ly incorporated citizens (but only in the latter w ay is it possible to grow' by destruction). In this case the Senate chose to make Roman citizens of the men of Privernum, having found them to be free men such as themselves. 1 hat the Privernati spokesman spoke the truth w as evidence of nobility, not of prudence, since only those assured of sufficient power themselves can speak freely w ithout ascertaining the prejudices of their audience. In fact, of course, the Privernati were captives of the Romans pleading for their lives; the speech of 5. Livy, VIII 21.5.

REASONS OR CAUSES

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their spokesman, noble because “true,” falsified their desperate situation. Their situation is the human situation under judgment of the “Romans” in the Chris¬ tian sense just as the model for human government is found in the “judgment” of the ancient Romans. I he factual truth of justice is a “judgment” to benefit or punish in one’s own interest. Honor first appears here as rebelliousness in subjects, while in the Florentine example it meant ruling without suffering from rebelliousness. These contraries can be combined only when “prudent men’’know how to see their interest in the rebelliousness of their subjects, and so honor disappears into prudence.6 Pru¬ dent men remitting punishment evince the “humanity” for which Carmignuola w as praised in II 18. Y et in remitting punishment for rebels, prudent men do not justify rebellion. On the contrary, by looking to their interest they forsake something of their pride. Tor their own honor as prudent men, men must be as prudent in what they claim as in what they allow. Rather than be rebellious, like subjects claiming liberty, they should claim God’s office of judging rebels. “But to return to our discourse”—that is, from the advantage of speaking the truth to prudent men—Machiavelli once again attacks the middle way and concludes by citing the mistake made by the Samnites against the advice of an old man. When the Samnites had the Romans trapped at the Caudine Forks, the old man counseled that the Romans be let go w ith honors or all killed; instead, the Samnites, taking a middle way, disarmed them, put them under the yoke, and thus let them go full of ignominy and indignation. Machiavelli promises to return to this example “in its place” (III 40-42), but meanwhile we can wonder how the Samnites could have supposed they would succeed with such a policy. In its place in Livy,7 w e find this example of unheeded advice discussed much more extensively than in Machiavelli’s brief report here. The “old man” w as the Samnite general’s father, and his cleverly presented advice resembled the argu¬ ment of interest that Machiavelli found in the mouths of the w iser senators in judging the Privernati. But the old man was not addressing his true words to

II 24

prudent men with an understanding of honor. We come now to fortresses, for to the “w ise men of our times” it w ill appear unthinking of the Romans not to have built fortresses to assure themselves against the Latins and the Privernati. Fortresses would have been a “bridle to keep them faithful”—it might seem—which indicates that fortresses are con¬ nected to the middle way of punishing discussed in II 23. In II 24 they are shown to be harmful because they keep a prince from obtaining the good w ill of the people, or of men, and useless because they cannot be defended without a good army. Thus the prince or republic that makes use of fortresses cannot keep to the healthy extremes, respectively, of benefiting or destroying their subjects. But in the ehapter heading Machiavelli says that fortresses are gen6. In the context to w hich NM sends us by his mention of the “text ot Livy,” Livy says that the consul prepared the wise lenity of the Senate by first punishing one outstanding rebel; VIII 20. 10. 7. Livy, IX 3.

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erally much more dangerous than useful, a qualification he does not make for any other of the maxims he uses for chapter titles.8 One must also look then for the exceptional case or cases where building a fortress would help obtain the good will of men and not be useless to a good army. One can infer that “our wise ones” would have expected Rome to build fortresses from the Florentine saying that Pisa and similar cities must be held with fortresses. This is in fact half of a Florentine witticism discussed in III 27, whose other half (in Machiavelli’s context of separated articulation) is discussed in the next chapter.9 But, he says, while Rome lived in freedom, and followed its “orders” and “virtuous institutions,” it never built fortresses to hold cities or provinces, though it saved some that were built. Seeing this difference betw een the Romans and the “princes of our time” (w ho follow or are the “wise men of our times”), Machiavelli w ill consider w hether it is good to build fortresses; he seems to assume they may be saved if built, since that is not in contention. Fortresses are made to defend oneself either from enemies or from subjects, and in the first case they are unnecessary, while in the second, harmful. Machiavelli w ill begin his reasoning (rendere ragione) with the second case, w hich permits him, because “subjects” may be new ly conquered enemies or one’s own people, to cross the boundary between foreign and domestic affairs. It also permits him to suggest that “enemies” may be found on either side of that boundary, but it is easier to begin with “subjects.” While Book II as a whole is on public deliberations in foreign affairs, this section of chapters has the connec¬ tion between foreign and domestic affairs for one of its themes and therewith the connection between public and private affairs. A prince or republic that fears rebellion from its subjects, Machiavelli continues, has a fear that arises from the hatred of its subjects, w hich comes from its evil conduct, which in turn arises from its belief that it can hold them w ith force or the imprudence of w hoever governs; and one of the things making the belief is having fortresses to hold them down. Evil conduct, which is the “cause” of the hatred, arises from having fortresses, it appears, not merely from building them. We note that the reason¬ ing has led us to a cause that moves a passion. Now beginning to use the tu, Machiavelli tells you that fortresses make you more bold and more violent with “subjects,” but only two ways of force or violence for holding a “people” w ill work—always having a good army in the field, as the Romans did, or scattering the people so they cannot unite to harm you. It w ill not help you to make them poor, for “arms remain for the plun¬ dered” (Machiavelli accepts the aid of Juvenal10), nor to disarm them, for fury supplies arms (and of Virgil11), nor to kill their heads, for they will grow again 8. Cf. “universally” in the title of I 1, the only other chapter in which “building” is a theme. “Most times” occurs in the title of II 27, in a clause that explains the maxim. 9. S., p. 312nl8. 10. Satires VIII 124; see the corresponding quotation in D. II 19. 11. Aeneid I 150; this phrase just precedes the verses quoted in D. I 54 to confirm that a “grave man of authority” can check an infuriated multitude. Cf. I 44.

REASONS OR CAUSES

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26 7

like those of the Hydra, nor to make fortresses; for though fortresses are useful in peacetime, when they give you more spirit to do the people ill, they are very useless in w ar, because they will be attacked by both enemy and subjects. T hey are especially useless in our times because of artillery. Those who have not taken Machiavelli’s depreciation of artillery at face value should therefore accept his depreciation of fortresses. 1 hen he sidles still closer to his listener; he wishes to dispute this matter more minutely. “Either you, prince, wish by these fortresses to keep a bridle on the people of your city; or you, prince or republic, w ish to bridle a city occupied by w ar.” Machiavelli is on familiar terms w ith all princes and republics. He has taken us now from subjects of apparently conquered lands to the people of your city, as distinguished from such subjects. I le even turns to the prince now and speaks of “his citizens.” So the distinction between subjects and enemies is found within subjects. Subjects were judged for punishment in II 23 as if they w ere conquered enemies judged by the conqueror; but once subjects are con¬ quered and judged, those w ho remain are yours. They are “your city” to be held by you, which is a matter of domestic politics. As the subjects cross the bound¬ ary from foreigners to yours, you cross the boundary from public authority judging them to private pow er making yourself secure against them, for, as w e have seen in II 2, the public must be defined in opposition to the foreign. This easy transition from public to private is prepared by the implicit consid¬ eration of the Christian notion of punishment tor rebellion in II 23, as this no¬ tion makes all men “domestic" subjects of God and all punishment by earthly princes mediately or immediately derivable from a “foreign" source. It is dis¬ played here by Machiavelli’s addressing the prince on both sides of the distinc¬ tion between your city and the city you have occupied, although republics, especially the Roman, also pass from one to the other by admitting foreigners to citizenship; but a prince, unlike a republic, unites the public and the private. In modern times the distinctions between domestic and foreign and between publie and private have broken down, and Machiavelli finds it necessary to recon¬ struct them from their “cause" in the realm of the private, from the passions. 1 le does not attempt to resuscitate the classical notion of the public, which is based on a presumption that men can live self-sufficiently without conquering others and hence w ithout making subjects of fellow citizens. Still addressing the prince, Machiavelli remarks that the wise and good prince, to keep himself good, and not to give cause to nor dare his sons to become bad, will never build a fortress; so they will have to rely not on fortresses but on the “good will of men.” Then come eleven examples extending the ehapter to an unusual length (the longest except for III 6) and filling the outline. There are five on fortresses used by princes, four on those made by republics holding lands they acquire, and two on those built for defense against “enemies from outside.” In a quick survey of their oddities w e may gather hints for discerning the exceptional cases when fortresses are useful.

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Francesco Sforza was reputed wise when he became duke of Milan, but it was not wise of him to make a fortress there, as shown by the effect on his heirs. They thought themselves secure with it, and thus perpetrated every kind of violence on the people; but without the seeming security of a fortress they would have discovered their danger, and with friendly subjects would have been able to make a more spirited resistance to the French attack than with hostile subjects and a fortress. The force of this example would seem to arise from the mere promise of a good of doubtful value which depends on the abilities of the Sforza heirs, w ho were not reputed w ise, to learn from experi¬ ence. At least it enables Machiavelli to add that fortresses with unfriendly subjects do not help in any w ay. Even if you w ish to recover a lost state in which you have left a fortress, you must have an army, and if you have an army you w ill recover the state anyw ay w ithout a fortress, and all the more easily as you have not been led “by the pride of the fortress” to mistreat the inhabitants. The sharp opposition Machiavelli contrives betw een relying on a fortress and on an army does not make much military sense, but it reminds us again that in man’s fundamental w ar against nature, the human good is to be sought in acquisition, not in self-sufficiency, the “pride of the fortress.” Yet even in this regard, could one imagine a fortress that w ould not tempt the sons or heirs of its builder to be arrogant and complacent and that would complement rather than subtract from the value of a good army? In the next example Machiavelli cites the action of the duke of Urbino in destroying all the fortresses after he had recaptured his own city from Cesare Borgia. Fie did so because “being loved by men,” he did not need them, and because he saw' that he could not defend them from enemies; but then he must have supposed they would be useful, not harmful, to his enemies.12 In this brief example we are told quite unnecessarily that Guidobaldo, duke of Urbino, was the son of Federigo, and Cesare Borgia the son of Pope Alexander VI. Of course they w ere sons in different senses: Guidobaldo was both a natural and a conven¬ tional son, while Cesare was a natural but not a conventional son. There re¬ mains the possibility of conventional sons, adopted sons, or followers: subjects that you make your own as opposed to natural sons or heirs or offspring of princes or species that are made intelligible by their genera on the presumption that intelligibility is the human good because it is the only self-sufficient good. In the central example of this group, Pope Julius is reported to have made a fortress in Bologna and then to have had the people “assassinated” by his gover¬ nor. The people rebelled, and the pope immediately lost the fortress, but Machiavelli says that if he had behaved otherwise, it would have been of use to him. He does not say why, but perhaps a fortress can be useful to a disarmed prince if he can regulate the behavior of his governor; perhaps the fortress could help him to regulate it. But he must not “assassinate” the people with indis12. NM, Descrizione del modo tenuto dal duca Valentino. .. , Opere II 44.

REASONS OR CAUSES

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criminate punishment or with subjection to higher goods. Niccolo da Gastello, father of the Vitelli, returned to his fatherland from exile and immediately destroyed two fortresses that had been built by Pope Sixtus IV, since he judged that not fortresses but the good will of the people would have to keep him in that state.13 Apparently the pope had judged that he needed fortresses, but then the city was not his own and he could not depend merely on the good will of the people, that is, on good will alone. But of all other examples the “freshest and most notable in every way, and most apt to show the uselessness of building [fortresses] and the usefulness of destroying them” is the one everyone knows—Genoa. After Genoa rebelled against Louis XII, the king of France, he came personally w ith all his forces to recapture it; and having done so, he made the strongest fortress ot all those of which we have knowledge to the present, called by the Genoese Codefa (The Lighthouse). Yet w hen the French left, the Genoese rebelled despite the for¬ tress, and their leader, Ottaviano Fregoso, w as able to take it by starvation after sixteen months. Ottaviano, being very prudent, refused all advice to make it his own refuge in every accident even though everyone believed he would, and, knowing that not fortresses but the “w ill of men” keeps princes in states, de¬ stroyed it. So, having founded his state not on the fortress but on his virtue and prudence, he held the state and holds it against ten thousand attackers, w here before a thousand infantry were enough to change the state of Genoa. Codefa w as a costly construction for the king and a shameful loss, w hile for Ottaviano it was glorious to reconquer and useful to destroy, Machiavelli concludes.14 Modern fortresses must be more harmful than ancient ones if Ottaviano is praised for destroying one and the Romans not criticized for saving some of those they conquered. Are w e supposed to have forgotten that the Genoa w hich everyone know s to be held by the virtue of Ottaviano is the same which according to II 21 has been an outstandingly successful example of invisible rule by the French? It seems more likely that by comparing the Genoese examples with each other and with the example of Pope Julius above, we are to infer that one can rule invisibly through a native governor better than visibly through a hired governor who relies on a fortress. According to Machiavelli’s imperialism it is better not to fly the flag; so it is curious that in discussing the defects of fortresses he stresses the arrogance of those who rely on them and requires us to infer that they constitute visible signs of foreign rule, even though they may have been built as a protec¬ tion against foreign rule. It may be that “fortresses” exist that have a capacity lor self-effacement and the function of aiding invisible rule. “But let us come to the republics that make fortresses not in their fatherlands 13. The deed and judgment were not memorable enough to be recorded in l.F. VI1 31; VII1 15, 23, 27. 14. Walker uses this partly fabricated example to confirm his dating of the Discourses (1 43-45; II 133), supported by Bertelli (Opere I 111-112).

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but in lands they acquire.” Machiavelli says that if the example given of France and Genoa is not enough—could France be a republic?—he will content himself with Florence and Pisa. Actually, besides these two examples he gives two more. Florence tried to hold Pisa with fortresses, and failed to realize that a hostile city which had been free and to which freedom would be a refuge in rebellion (that much is enough to make a city used to liberty, I 16) would have to be treated in the Roman mode: made a companion or destroyed. The virtue of the fortresses was shown at the invasion of King Charles (that is, the king of France) when the Florentines surrendered either because of the faithlessness of their guardians or for fear of a greater evil. Thus they put their reliance in methods that gave their enemy a way to deprive them of the city. Mention of the “Roman mode” brings to mind the “authority of the Romans” w ith which Machiavelli again contents himself (II 18). In lands that the Romans wished to hold with violence, they took down walls and did not build new ones; this leaves untouched his earlier allowance that the Romans saved some for¬ tresses. Now someone might object on the basis of ancient Tarentum and modern Brescia that fortresses are useful for recovering cities from rebellious subjects. But Tarentum was retaken by an entire army under Fabius Maximus, who would have succeeded with some other method; besides, what use is a fortress, if to recover a city, one needs a consular army and a Fabius Maximus for captain? By the example of Capua it is clear, Machiavelli says, hastening like Fabius to restore the authority of the Romans, that they could retake a city by virtue, not by fortresses. Yet it remains a fact that not only the Romans but Fabius himself used a fortress for the purpose of retaking a Roman colony. As to Brescia, which rebelled against the French and was retaken with the aid of a fortress, the example is deprecated on the ground that the French needed to have a large army nearby under the command of the well-known “monsignore di Fois.” This one example does not suffice against the contrary examples, it is claimed. Two examples remain of building fortresses against an enemy from outside (the first topic in this chapter outline), and to introduce them Machiavelli now reiterates the necessity of relying on good armies. He cites the experience of the Spartans, who were more hostile to fortresses than the Romans, for while the Romans did not build fortresses, the Spartans would not have walls around their city. We are reminded that the Spartans did not build an empire, and we observe again (see II 3, 10) that in Book II, where the corruption even and expecially of Roman imperialism is made manifest, the Spartans receive better treatment than in the debate of I 6. Indeed we have just seen an instance where the “authority of the Romans” had to be restored. When a Spartan was asked by an Athenian whether the walls of Athens did not seem beautiful to him, he answered, “Yes, if the city were inhabited by women.” The reply does not deny, it affirms that walls would be useful for a city inhabited by women. Plutarch tells this story three times in the mouths of Spartans, but never about

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Athens.15 In Machiavelli’s telling we are made to think of the Athenian women in their fortresses of whom the Spartans were ever scornful. Doubtless we are also intended to think of the modern institution or fortress that provides walls for women. In accordance with this possibility, Machiavelli gives us his eleventh example: “Francesco Maria,” w ho to assault Urbino left behind him ten hostile cities “without any respect.” For when good armies do not meet a very mighty resistance, they enter enemy countries “without respect” for any cities or fortresses that they leave behind. Given this counsel to an attacker rather than a builder of fortresses, we are made to wonder w hether there is a second meaning of “fortress” which Machiavelli might find useful for himself in attacking the modern fortress which has been so useful to some and harmful to many. Could it be a book so devised that it gathers “sons” in friendly and enemy countries yet without making them so dependent on an authoritative text that they cannot fend for themselves or learn from experience?16 I he chapter ends with words of praise for the Romans who showed such prudence in their judgment on the Latins and the Privernati (II 23),17 “not thinking of the for¬ tresses,” but in the example given in II 24 they and their great captain did use a fortress, and today w e have to think of fortresses. Machiavelli conspicuously returns to the mistake of an early enemy of the Romans, taken from Livy’s Book II, in the last chapter of the section. The Veientes and the Etruscans attacked the Romans in an attempt to take advantage of the disunity in the Roman republic between the plebs and the nobility, but their attaek actually united the Romans and had an effect contrary to its inten¬ tion. Machiavelli corrects the mistake by appealing to the example of the Floren¬ tines, of all peoples; for though the Florentines disgraced themselves in trying to hold Pisa w ith fortresses (II 24), they excelled in the arts of peace by holding Pistoia with parties,18 or so it is said here. Our task is to find the connection be¬ tween the Florentine mistakes in the use of fortresses and the Florentine prudence in the management of disunion in order to supply Machiavelli’s counsel for a later enemy of the later Rome. The topie of the chapter explicitly connects domestic and foreign policy, though still from the standpoint of the latter. Machiavelli allow s us to perceive how' cleverly the Roman consuls led their army into close proximity with the enemy so that the enemy’s boldness and insolence could make an impression on the Roman troops, but the emphasis is on the mistake of the Veii and Etruscans who thought they could extinguish the “Roman name” (Livy says the “Roman substance,” res).19 They “believed to gain a thing and lost it” because they were 15. 16. times. 17. 18. 19.

Moralia 190a, 2l2e, 215d; cf. Plato, Laws 778c. Aristotle, Politics 13301) 32. “Fortress” occurs fifty-seven times in 11 24, “army,” twenty-two times, anil “build,” thirteen Xenophon, Cyropaideia VI 1. 15-16; Lucretius, De rerum natura II 7-8. This is not an example but the occasion of the discourse. S., pp. 42-43, 312nl8. Livy, II 44. 7; S., p. 344n201.

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ignorant of the causes of union and disunion in republics. The cause of disunion most times is idleness and peace, tjie cause of union is fear and war; and if the Veii (Machiavelli drops the Etruscans for the time being) had been wise, they would have kept war away {discosto) from the Romans, and w ould have sought to oppress them w ith the arts of peace. In II 11 the arts of peace w ere shown to pro¬ duce unity through religion; here they produce disunity through idleness (ozio). Ozio can also mean leisure, including philosophic leisure (II 2); and we will sur¬ mise that it refers here especially to that philosophy which seems to keep war aw ay w ith separated ideas, by w hich Romanness is a substance and not a name. Explaining the arts of peace, Machiavelli says that one should seek to become the “confidant” of the city that is disunited and as long as the parties do not come to arms, “to manage oneself as arbiter between the parties.” If they do come to arms, one should give “slow; favors” to the weaker party so that they w ill consume themselves in w ar and not fear that you w ish to oppress them and become their prince. Thus we see that this foreign policy could serve as a domestic policy, but it was not the policy of the Roman nobility in the prime of the republic. That nobility achieved the end of oppressing the people and becoming prince by the management of fear rather than by allow ing the parties to exhaust themselves in fighting and the republic to w allow' in laziness. Accord¬ ing to the discussion of parties in I 4-5, the Romans did not suffer from laziness even in peace, in the early period of their vigor w hich we are considering. The cause of their disunion was mutual fear and suspicion. Laziness of leisure would seem to be the cyclical corruption of virtue characteristic of a later period, though Machiavelli did not use the term in I 2. “Ambitious leisure” is however the condition of modern Italy above all (I pr.). In seeming to advise the Veientes and the Etruscans, Machiavelli shows how Rome might have been ruled by a foreign-domestic prince after it had fallen into corrupt laziness. It is appropriate that he should then turn to the Florentines to illustrate the policy of ruling through disunion, for they seem to have learned how to attack a divided city. Their brotherly treatment of the Pistolese, “as I have said in another discourse and for another purpose” (II 21), w as nothing but practising the arts of peace so as to make that city “come spontaneously to throw itself into the arms of Florence.”20 As for Siena, to which they w ere said to be hostile in II 21, they have gained the most w hen their favors to it have been “weak and few .” When Filippo Visconti attempted to make war on Florence by meddling in the disunions of Florence, he gained nothing and said (according to Machiavelli) that the follies of the Florentines had made him spend two millions in gold uselessly. The Florentines seem to have had an almost ecclesiastical genius in the matter of “favors”, but Visconti’s clumsy meddling, though it may have enriched them, did not cause and is not said to have caused, unity among them. Machiavelli concludes that the Veientes and the Tuscans were deceived in their opinion, and so in the future w ill anyone be deceived believing to oppress a

20. Cf. the Capuans who threw themselves into the lap of the Romans, 1121.

213

THE PASSIONS OF IDLENESS

II 25

people in a similar way and by a similar cause.21 Yet the cases are not similar, as Romans united when attacked and the Florentines have not. The difference is in the condition of ozio, seemingly but not actually ascribed to the Romans, which in truth applies to the Florentines and explains their reliance on fortresses. That is a hint to the Tuscans, for so they are now called, that it w ill be possible to attack a disunited city without uniting it. In this chapter Machiavelli shows why he often calls the Etruscans “Tuscans”. Once enemies of ancient Rome, they are now capable of reviving ancient virtue in hostility to modern Rome, yet with the advantage of Rome’s (or Machiavelli’s) inventions.

7.

The Passions of Idleness

(II 26-32)

In the modern army’s last line of battle are the passions, their management and their managers, all considered in the seven chapters of 11 26-32. The passions are those of idleness, insolence, and revenge, through which the cause of disunion works (II 25) and on which invisible government is based (II 21). They stir, sw ell, and burst forth in times of indulgence as men feel relief from an effort of virtue or sit complacently in the shade of someone else’s achieve¬ ment; they come in the period of weakness after virtue in the cycle of civiliza¬ tions. I hey arose, therefore, in Rome after it had conquered the world by means of its republican virtue (II 2), and they w ere exploited, as w e have said, by the princes of a religion that knew how to make a virtue of w eakness. After the passions are described in II 26-28, the method of making virtue out of weakness is attributed to fortune in II 29, so that Roman virtue is after all supplemented by fortune despite w hat was said in II 1. This fortune, discussed as a willing being directing the French invasion of Rome, is hard to distinguish from Christian Providence, and II 30-32 show s how the priests make use of it. Their ways w ill instruct us in overcoming the cycle at the critical period follow ¬ ing works of virtue, as they use the passions of idleness to introduce and to renew, with effects all the more impressive as they are unexpected, the passion of necessity, fear. By noticing how “our religion" has been interpreted accord¬ ing to idleness, we can learn how to interpret it according to virtue (II 2). It should be said that our instruction on this point is not completed until the same Freneh invasion is reconsidered in III 1, and there no longer as under the II 26

direction of fortune. The title of 11 26, by contrast to that of II 24, offers a challenge by its absoluteness: “Contempt and abuse generate hatred against those who use them, without any utility to them.” We can expect that Machiavelli w ill now allow a statement like this to stand (not that the title of II 24 should be allowed to stand1), and by attending to the examples we can judge w hen insult might be useful to the insulter. Machiavelli himself does not insult, how ever. He begins 21. See D. 11 22 (end), the end of the preceding section. 1. The argument of 11 24 shows that fortresses are generally useful, not harmful, except when used as a substitute for virtue.

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by saying “I believe”2 that one of the “great prudences” men use is to abstain from menacing or injuring someone with words; and grandi prudenze are Maehiavelli’s. Nontheless, insults (like fortresses, II 24) are made to pass the test of utility, and men in general are given to know that it is imprudent to indulge their sense of honor by offering insults. Neither menacing nor injuring someone w ith words, Machiavelli explains, takes forces aw ay from the enemy, but the one makes him more cautious (which is not mentioned in the title) and the other gives him greater hatred against yourself and makes him think w ith greater ingenuity how to hurt you. For example, the behavior of the Veientes related in the chapter above (the Tuscans are again forgotten or forgiven) added the opprobrium of words to the injury of war. Thus an attack against a divided enemy, which Livy treated together with the imprudence of insulting him, Machiavelli separates in succeeding chapters as war from peace. Is it possible then to understand insult as one of the arts of peace by w hich the Veientes might have sought to oppress the Romans? At the moment we are told, to the contrary, that a prudent captain always makes his soldiers abstain from the “opprobrium of words,” since such words inflame the enemy and excite him to revenge, so much that “they are all arms that come back against you.” Of this there w as a notable example in Asia, w here Gabade captain of the Persians, had been besieging Amida a long time and having become fatigued, decided to leave; w hereupon those in the city (terra), all coming out on top of the walls (w hich they had apparently found very useful, compare II 24), proud of their victory (perhaps infected by “pride of the fortress,” II 24), called down accusations and reproaches of cowardice and laziness against the enemy. Gabade, angered by the insults, changed his plan, returned to the siege, took the city in a few' days, and sacked it. This same thing happened to the Veii, Machiavelli says, implying now that they could have attacked the divided city successfully if they had abstained from insult; both the Veii (w ho attacked) and the inhabitants of Amida (who defended) received the “punishment” of their contempt. Could the Romans, who attacked and defended on this occasion, have used the boomerang weapon of insult? Machiavelli induces us to look at insult from the standpoint of the insulted, and to suppose that a captain using the arts of peace (II 25) could unite his army by having it insulted.3 However this may be, the punishment of contempt is not legislated; it comes from the insulting words themselves by the reaction of revenge. Machiavelli now says that “good princes of armies and good governors of republics” have to take every opportune remedy to ensure that these injuries and reproaches are not used “either in their city or in their army, neither among 2. D. 1 18 is the other chapter that begins with “I believe,” and 1 52 is midway between; S., p. 344nl98. 3. II 25 is the midpoint between the second pair of chapters that mention utility in the title; see above, note 45 on I 44.

THE PASSIONS OF IDLENESS

26

275

themselves nor against the enemy.” I urning then to remedies against insults “among themselves”—the new consideration—he gives two examples of princes and governors w ho made laws against domestic insults, as they might be called; for such insults, he adds mysteriously, “would do worse” than the others if not provided against. Worse than the loss of a battle and the sacking of a city? To avoid these mighty evils, the Romans on two occasions enacted artificial punishment for insults so that insulters who might not be punished naturally by having their words come back as w eapons against them would have to suffer the revenge of the law; artificial punishment imitates and perfects natural punish¬ ment. The two examples of domestic insults avoided occurred in armies, as in Book 11 Machiavelli does not consider armies merely as parts of cities but as analogous to them or even as transcending particular cities, in the ease of the army of an empire or a sect. In the first example, Roman legions left at Capua conspired against the Capuans, “as will be narrated in its place”; and when Valerius Corvinus quieted the mutiny (sedizione) born from the conspiracy, very grave punishment was enacted for those who ever reproached any of these soldiers for their mutiny. Tiberius Gracchus, having been made captain over a certain number of slaves w hom the Romans w ere forced to use against Hanni¬ bal, ordered “among the first things” capital punishment (as distinguished from very grave punishment) for anyone w ho reproached any one of them for their servitude. In both cases Machiavelli adds on his ow n responsibility4 the detail that punishment be enacted for those who reproach mutineers and former slaves, since above all he w ishes to avoid and to oppose these insults; he w ill have use in his own army for mutinied soldiers and former slaves. The chapter concludes with a tag from a Roman writer confirming the Roman examples w ith his w isdom and w ithout reference to Rome. Machiavelli says that the Romans conceived it harmful to insult men and to reproach them for their shame because nothing so excites men’s spirits (animi) nor generates greater indignation, whether said in truth or as a joke; and he quotes, or almost quotes, Tacitus: “For pungent jokes, when draw n too much from truth, leave a bitter memory.”5 Machiavelli slides from the contrast between truth and joke to the combination of truth and joke, and since his w ork abounds in such combina¬ tions and his wisdom is always presented in them, one must ask what is the joking truth here. We remark that the two insults punished by law concern the bad origins of men as soldiers. Is it not true that the most common insults used by men everyw here reproach others for their low origins? And since everyone comes to high rank from low origins, either his ow n or another’s from whom he inherits—that is, his own either way (II 13)—are these insults not drawn from 4. Livy, VII 41. 3; XXIII 35. 7. NM follows the example of Tiberius Gracchus, who enacted the law himself, in contrast to Valerius Corvinus, who appealed to the people to enact the law. Compare Plato’s refusal to legislate against bodily insults in Republic 464e and Laws 879e, to say nothing of verbal insults. (My thanks to Nathan Tarcov for this point.) 5. S., p. 50.

276 II 26

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truth? Perhaps they are not the full truth, beeause the power to insult and be insulted “w ith words” implies a certain rank for men in nature over beings laeking this power. The difficulty as Machiavelli sees it is that the philosophers who have established human dignity on the ground of man’s power of speech have had to concede that only a few men attain perfection in speech, and thus these philosophers have ended by making most men slaves and w hat is more, reproaehing them for it. T his doctrine of man’s high origins is therefore more congenial than might have been expected to the priests, for they too teach a doctrine of man’s high origins w hich makes slaves of men. They propagate the great Christian insult concerning the badness of men at the origins to the effect that men are mutinied soldiers in the Christian army, and they threaten a very grave punishment that is not capital. In opposition to these doctrines, Machiavelli admits the truth of man’s low' origins, but instead of insulting men, enrolls them in an army for the common defense in which men’s origins are not a reproaeh but an incentive to excel. Moreover, in the laws Machiavelli enacts, there is a lesson concerning law. Since the most common insults are harmful as well as draw n from truth, law s against them must be “among the first things” legislated, for w hile Machiavelli combines truth and jesting, the law is a grave liar. Christian princes in Machiavelli’s day have difficulty in maintaining their law s because the Christian insult subordinates all their law s and hence themselves to the divine punishment for original sin. This Christian insult, as we see from the hint at the beginning of the chapter, goes unpunished because it is accompanied by a menace that makes

II 27

men cautious. Machiavelli will replace it with his proposal to return to the beginnings, there to recapture the necessity by which men operate well, and then from men’s own necessity to reacquire their own law s for them. Since the use of disrespectful words against an enemy arises “most times” from an insolence that either victory or the false hope of victory gives you, Machiavelli discourses next on that insolence. The title of II 27 says: “For prudent princes and republics it should be enough to conquer, because most times, when it is not enough, one loses.” But how can it be enough to conquer if one’s insolence is based not on victory but on the false hope of victory? Indeed, after being presented with these alternative sources of insolence, w e receive no instruction on insolence arising from victory; all the examples and their attendant remarks pertain to the false hope of victory cherished by weaker powers at war with or under attack from stronger powers. No Roman example is supplied; so we are not invited to appreciate the insolence bred by conquest of the world—rather the contrary. Alexander the Great appears, yet it is not he but the one republic that “wished to close to him the gates that all the world had opened to him” that is considered insolent. At the end of the chapter Machiavelli says in a moral tone that men “do not know' how' to put limits to their hopes,” w hen for moral content he should say that men do not know the limits to their pow er. He does not think that strong

THE PASSIONS OF IDLENESS

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277

men are insolent because he does not see that they are weak, or have to consider themselves weak, as against a higher power. When he implies that men must put limits to their hopes, he means those hopes by which the weak believe they can recoup their losses in this world. In this aspect the false hope of victory is the foundation of false opinion that victory weakens the victor (II 22). The phrase “most times” used once in the title and twice at the beginning of the chapter reminds us of the cause of disunion in II 25, which was “most times” laziness and peace: the false hope of victory need not be a warlike insolence, for it can sus¬ tain the insolence of those, such as the Florentines, who let others fight for them. The false hope of victory “makes men err not only in speaking but also in working,” the examples of errant speaking having been given in II 25 and 26. Machiavelli adds that this hope,6 when it enters the breasts of man, makes them cross the mark (passare il segno) and most times lose a certain good hoping to have an uncertain one. Since “this limit,” that is, the boundary between a certain and an uncertain good, deserves consideration, and men often deceive themselves about it, Machiavelli w ill demonstrate it particularly with ancient and modern examples, as he cannot demonstrate it so distinctly w ith reasons. I le may w ish us to remember the passage in II 11 where he says that a prudent man has recourse to Got! because many good things know n to him do not have such evident reasons in them as to persuade others. So he uses examples to indicate the boundary or sign, or as we have seen in regard to II 21, he uses examples in place of this sign, which is none other than the boundary between this world and the next. Instead of reasons, then, w e are given four examples. I lannibal, after defeat¬ ing the Romans at Cannae, sent ambassadors (oratori) back to the Carthaginian Senate to announce (significare) the victory and to ask for subsidies. In the follow ing debate, Hanno, an old and prudent Carthaginian citizen advised the Senate to use this victory wisely in making peace with the Romans, w hich they, having won, could make with honorable conditions. Their intention, he main¬ tained, was only to show the Romans that they were strong enough to fight them and having won this victory, they should not lose it in hope of a greater one. Machiavelli here suppresses the argument of I lanno w hich he reports in II 30 that since the Romans had not sued for peace, the Carthaginians had not yet won a real victory. Perhaps the false hope is that peace can be secured with a greater victory than that over the Romans at Cannae. Hanno’s advice reminds us of the advice of the old Samnite recorded at the end of II 23, and thus suggests that the middle w ay which Machiavelli inveighs against is based on the insolence of false hope. For the second example we have Tyre, a city or land in water like Venice, which held out against Alexander after he had taken all of the Orient. It sent ambassadors to Alexander to tell him that it would serve him and give him the 6. “Hope” can be found seven times in li 27.

275*

II 27

BOOK II

obedience he wished on condition that it not receive either him or his men in their land. Alexander became indignant and besieged l yre, which he discov¬ ered to be so well defended that after four months he decided to concede the same conditions it had requested; w hereupon the proud inhabitants of l yre, swelling w ith the pride of their fortress (II 24), refused an accord and killed “whoever came to negotiate it.” At this Alexander again became indignant, destroyed the city, and killed and enslaved the “men,” that is, the inhabitants. Machiavelli comments on the second example after giving the third, which is Florence in 1512. A Spanish army came into the Florentine dominion w ith the purpose of putting the Medici back in pow er and with the hope given them by men in the city that the Florentines would take arms in their favor. When they did not, the Spanish decided to offer an agreement, but the people of Florence, now made proud, refused it—whence came the loss of Prato and the “ruin of that state,” that is, of the popular state in w hich Piero Soderini and Machiavelli held office. In his comment Machiavelli offers a lesson to “princes” who are attacked by stronger powers. They should not refuse every accord, especially when it is offered, because none w ill ever be offered so “low ” that there is no good in it nor some part of victory for him. We may take this lesson, w hose face value is quite low', to mean that not only is perfect peace unattainable, but earthly peace is sufficient. It should have been enough, Machiavelli says, for the people of Tyre to accept the conditions Alexander had at first refused, and it was a great victory for them w hen w ith arms in hand they made such a man condescend to their wishes. This was the certain good, and to seek it was not insolence. It also should have been enough for the Florentine people to save its state at the expense of its “devotion” to the Freneh and of money—to save, as he says, one thing out of three; and that people, even if it had seen a greater and almost certain victory, should not have been w illing to put itself at the discretion of fortune and to play its last stake. Its last stake was a false hope, and it should have been content to profit from disappointment of the false hope of the Spanish army. Maehiavelli’s address to princes, although the examples are exclusively of peoples, may be directed to princes of his ow n persuasion, urging them to find a certain good in the false hopes of their opponents, and like the priests content themselves w ith victories they never won. For w hen some lose because for them victory w as not enough, others gain what they lose. Hannibal appears for the second time in the chapter as the last example, a rather different Hannibal. In this case, instead of seeking to enlarge the war against the Romans, he is recalled to Carthage to succor his fatherland, which is now’ after several defeats confined to its own walls and reduced to having him and his army as its only refuge. Know ing that he and his army were his fatherland’s last stake, he w as not ashamed to ask for peace; and if Hannibal, who w as so virtuous and had his army intact, sought peace first rather than battle, w hen he saw7 that if he lost it, his fatherland w ould become a slave, w hat should someone

THE PASSIONS OF IDLENESS

II 27

II 28

279

do who lacks his virtue and experience? I lannibal the man of war has become a man of peace because of a calculation, the contrary of that which sustains today’s men of peace, who are inspired by the false hope of later victory. This chapter does not mention the hope of invisible justice on which the weak depend to sustain themselves against the strong, but that is nevertheless its topic. Com¬ paring insolence, the vice of the weak, w ith humility, the virtue of the weak, one sees that the virtue rests on the vice. But Machiavelli’s humanity, replacing humility, avoids insolence. In II 28 we find the explanation for the failure to discuss divine justice in the preceding chapter; this justice is now equated with revenge and is presented as human. We are thereby made aw are that for Machiavelli divine justice is human revenge—or an extension of it. The form of the chapter is indicated in the title: “How dangerous it is to a republic or to a prince not to avenge an injury done against the public or against the private.” This is a chapter containing two parallel stories of unavenged injuries, one against the public by a republic, one against the private, that is a private individual, by a prince; in both cases the original injury is forgotten or transformed into the injury of not avenging. To find the lesson of the chapter one must look for the skew in the parallel, for Machiavelli, like other w riters of his quality and more than most, sets up a form chiefly (not incidentally) for the purpose of departing from it. It is the pleasure and privilege of founders to make and break their own rules. T he first example is introduced very quickly: “That w hich makes men indig¬ nant can easily be know n from what happened to the Romans w hen they sent the three Fabii as ambassadors to the French”; and the second example is brought up to eludicate a point in the first. T he first example is the principal one. The Romans, then, sent the three Fabii as ambassadors (oratori) to the French, w ho had come to attack T uscany, and in particular Chiusi. The ambas¬ sadors were to “signify” (II 27) to the French to abstain from making w ar on the T uscans, but when they arrived on the spot, being more fit to act than to speak, they led a battle of the T uscans against the French. Incensed at this misconduct, the French turned their anger from the T uscans to the Romans and demanded the satisfaction of punishing the Fabii, but instead of giving them to the French or punishing them at all, the Romans elected them tribunes with consular power. Flection, we have seen, is the alternative to punishment. The French then seeing those honored who should have been punished took everything as done for their contempt and ignominy; so they marched upon Rome and took it, except for the Capitol. This defeat w as inflicted only “through the inobservance of justice” because the ambassadors for Rome, having “sinned” against the law of nations, should have been punished and instead were honored. One must consider, Machiavelli continues, that every republic and every prince must beware of doing such injury not only against a “universality” but even against an individual; and he takes up the latter instance. If one man is offended by either the public or the private, and is not avenged to his satisfac-

280 II 28

BOOK II

tion, he will try to ruin the republic to avenge himself, if he lives in one, or if he lives under a prince, and has any generosity in himself, he will not rest until he has avenged himself on the prince, even at the cost of hurt for himself. To verify this point, there is no example more beautiful nor more true (for these are not identical) than the following, which we see concerns a prince rather than a republic, a private rather than a public injury, and love rather than war. Philip of Macedonia, father of Alexander, had a handsome and noble youth in his court, Pausanias, who was loved by Attalus, one of the chief men close to Philip. After Attalus’ advances were rejected, he invited Pausanias and many other noble barons to a “solemn” banquet. When each one was full of food and wine, he had Pausanias siezed and put in bonds, and then not only vented his own lust by force but for greater ignominy had many others violate him in the same way. Pausanias often complained of this “injury” (Machiavelli forgets to call it a sin) to Philip, but got no satisfaction; indeed Philip appointed Attalus governor of a province in Greece. At last Pausanias, seeing his enemy honored rather than punished, turned all his anger not against the one w ho had done the injury but against Philip w ho had not avenged it. One “solemn” morning at the wedding of Philip’s daughter, Pausanias killed him as he was standing in the temple between his son-in-law' and his son. This example, we are told, is much like that of the Romans, and notable to whoever governs as show ing that one must never esteem a man so little as to believe that when injury is added to injury, the injured one w ill not think of avenging himself w ith every danger and particular harm to himself. In both these cautionary tales, men avenged themselves; there w as no divine sanction applied against the breach of the law' of nations (which is confirmed in II 29, w here fortune is presented as a divinity) nor against the lust of Attalus. In both cases, the anger of the injured turned against the regime w hich failed to render them justice, that is, to avenge them. Governments must expect to have to supply vengeance in the absence of divine sanction, and to make this private satisfaction their public duty, at the peril of their private interest if they omit it. With the private individual, revenge is so little a passion of interest that a man w ill risk general ruin and particular harm to have it, but for governments this passion of idleness is transformed into a necessity which must be anticipated. Desire for revenge is not confined to powerful nations capable of satisfying it w ith impunity, nor is it to be found only in individuals of any “generosity,” as Machiavelli first has us believe; it can be found in the weak, as we are at last informed. Why did the government fail to punish these crimes? Both criminals profited from their crimes because they involved the public in them, the Fabii by w in¬ ning a battle for Rome’s allies and Attalus by allow ing many noble barons to imitate his act. The difference w as that the action of the Fabii w as sanctified by the fatherland; Livy says that the Senate, recognizing the injustice of the Fabii but unw illing to punish men of such nobility, passed on the responsibility for

THE PASSIONS OF IDLENESS

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281

their actions to the people.7 Machiavelli ignores this explanation partly because it is repetitive for us now, partly because he is interested in the position of ambassadors, the oratori also mentioned twice in II 27. Ambassadors have the privilege as intermediaries of going where others cannot go on condition that they speak but not act in their country’s interest; if they break this law, how¬ ever, their country cannot be trusted to punish them. They may therefore be compared to intermediaries between man and God, w ho also transcend the distinction betw een public and private, who are permitted privileges of action as well as speech, and who are unlikely to be punished by the pow er they repre¬ sent for excessive zeal in the interest of that pow er. That pow er is founded on the hope of final victory w hich w ill make possible the revenge of the w eak acting not simply as Pausanias but as a “universality,” for one must remember that the people united is strong, w hile each by itself is w eak (1 57). Machiavelli himself is a kind of ambassador from human beings to the universality of things, and he finds it necessary to fight on behalf of those he represents in order to unite them and make them strong. If he were able to “observe” justice in the universality, he could afford to behave as an impartial ambassador and his Romans could be impartial judges (II 23). The second example has to do w ith revenge for unrequited love, the revenge of Attalus on Pausanias, which was quite successful and was not thw arted by Philip. T his revenge was not for an injury, since it cannot be called an injury to someone that another does not fall in love w ith him; it was for the insult of refusal, a slight of w hich the parallel in the first example w as the provocation offered by the french to the Fabii (mentioned by Livy but not by Machiavelli8). It is indicated then that the fact of unrequited love makes the rule of universal love impossible and punitive justice necessary. Unrequited homosexual love calls to mind the philosophy that says the highest love is love of similar intelligibles w hich are most beautiful and most true, love that is necessarily unre¬ quited. We cannot ignore six repetitions of “Philip” in a story about homosexu¬ ality,9 and we are not surprised to see from Machiavelli’s unnecessary and invented detail that Philip was killed inbetween the “two Alexanders”—son-inlaw (genera) and son—that he could not tell the difference. By ignoring unre¬ quited love he released Pausanias’ revenge and directed it against himself, bring¬ ing about his own ruin.10 Platonic love is easily perverted to the universal love of Christianity and thence to the revenge of an impossible love unrequited. That revenge is prefigured in the cruelty of Philip the shepherd that Machiavelli denounced in I 26. 7. Livy, V 36. 9. 8. Livy, V 36. 4-5. 9. Six Philips in II 28 follow six \lexanders in II 27. I hc particular mention of Chiusi in this chapter puts us in mind of the incest prohibition (see 1 7, end) and of the connection or identity between it and revenge. 10. Aristotle uses this incident as an example of attack provoked by insolence, hence on Philip’s body, not his office; Politics, 1311b 1.

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The central chapter of this section is the second of the two chapters on theology in the Discourses. The first such chapter (I 56, thirty-three chapters earlier) told of signs given to men presumably by airy intelligences who have compassion for them. This one is entitled: “Fortune blinds the spirits of men when it does not wish that they approve its designs”—an Italian translation of a passage in Livy given later in the chapter in the original, which speaks of Fortune’s power in place of its designs.\Fortune\proves to be a version of Providence closer to the Christian conception than the signs discussed in I 56, and it^workTlo its end not directly by prQyejnting men from opposing its end or by forcing them out of the w ay but by blinding the spirits (animi) of men so that they remove themselves as obstacles. It causes failures of prudence through blindness, but in the context of this section we must wonder how these differ from failures of prudence caused by passions, especially the passions of idleness. The “spirits” of men vaguely comprehend both mind and passions; so we must look to the argument to see whether failures of prudence, understood as passions rather than Fortune, can be managed for human ends. The argument moves as usual aw ay from traditional statement (at the beginning of II 29) to radical revision (in II 30), just like the argument on Fortune in chapter 25 of The Prince. We begin with a contrast betw een men on the one hand and “the heavens” (which is Biblical) or “heaven” (w hich is philosophical) on the other, which come to opposition in “human things.”11 Men do not control “human things,” as evidenced by the fact that things arise and accidents come w hich the heavens do not wish to be provided against. When “I say” this happened at Rome— Machiavelli’s experience in this matter is larger than Livy’s—w here there was so much virtue, religion, and order, it is not marvelous that it happens more often in a city or province lacking these things. It seems that though the power of the heavens extends even to Rome, it was there reduced by human achievements, including religion! Because this place is very notable for demonstrating the power (potenza) of heaven over human things, Machiavelli continues, Titus Livy demonstrates it at length and w ith very efficacious words—as if Livy w ere more concerned w ith the place of the proof than w ith its order. In the Livian text, the statement Machiavelli puts for the title of this chapter and later calls Livy’s conclusion does indeed precede the evidence cited, in contrast to Machiavelli’s procedure in 1 56, w here signs “everybody know s” w ere followed by a cautious conclusion.12 Here the “demonstration” follow ing the conclusion of the premise consists of a series of unusual Roman errors listed to a number of eleven.13 Noteworthy among these are the sixth, the error of not examining the place of their camp beforehand, and the last, their failure to close the city’s gates; in Machiavelli’s 11. S., pp. 209, 213-218. 12. Livy, V 37-38; S., p. 215; Nicola Badaloni, “Naturae societa in Machiavelli,” Studi Storici 10 (1969), 696. 13. Livy has twelve examples in V 37-38, and does not include the error of exiling Camillus there; see V 33. 1.

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anachronistic criticism of Rome, its cosmopolitanism (failure to close the gates) was due to its failure to examine beforehand the place where its army would encamp. In causing these errors Fortune appears to have been malevolent at least to the Romans, as opposed to the compassionate airy intelligences, and also more powerful than they, for one of the signs listed in I 56 was a voice “louder than human” heard by a plebeian warning that the French were coming to Rome. That loud call made no impression on blinded spirits. In this chapter Machiavelli is partly afraid not to seem superstitious, but also partly not afraid to seem superstitious. His “Fortune” is a willing being of superhuman but apparently not of supernatural power, having rule over only human things. Unlike the intelligences, it leaves no sign of its rule, or perhaps it blinds the spirits of men to such signs. It has designs but it does not encourage the argument from design for its own existence. Its designs are unknown to men; it w ill show them only its pow er over them. But as Fortune rules over only human things, it cannot show its pow er without accomplishing, and thus reveal¬ ing, its end. Though Fortune seems inscrutable at first, Machiavelli gradually unfolds its design, or the design he puts in its mind; he stages-a test of power between Fortune and men in which men improve as they see what Fortune can do anti learn its tricks of indirection. Fortune then teaches rather than blinds men, and in the process of losing its pow er over them by teaching them how to govern, it loses its malevolence to them. Fortune personified is intermediate between fortune as malignant chance antf men w ith their ow n arms making their ow n fortune as far7 as they Tan. As part ot Machia\elh's transformed Christianity it is temporarily endowed with the pow er of Providence so that it can be reduced to an inevitable minimum. Machiavelli uses the distinction between human and superhuman, not that between artificial and natural, because the boundary of the former distinction is more visibly movable than the boundary of the latter, hence more surely appreciable by political men. But since the superhuman includes the natural as well as fortune, contracting it will have the effect of mastering nature as well as fortune. For example, man's natural desire lor acquisition is mastered to the extent that his power (potenza) to acquire is ex¬ panded and the~power ot fortune to oppose him is contracted (compare I 37 and II pr.). After the eleven errors designed by Fortune, Machiavelli gives three “orders” which the Romans used “not tumultuously” after they had repaired to the Capitol. They did not burden themselves w ith useless people there (Livy says they allowed but did not encourage women to join their husbands and sons in the Capitol since it would have been inhuman, though useful, to expel them14); they gathered all the grain they could so as to support the siege; and of the useless crowd of old people, women, and children, most went to surrounding

14. Livy, V 40. 4; S., p. 135.

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lands and the rest remained in Rome as the prey of the French. Machiavelli remarks that anyone who had read of things done by the Roman people many years before and then afterward in those times, could not believe in any way that it was one same people. We remark that by defending the Capitol, the Romans played their last stake in a fortress very useful to them (II 24, 26, 27). Machiavelli fails to mention that they went there, according to Livy, partly to protect their gods.15 He now' quotes again Livy’s “conclusion,” w hich, he says, could not be more true, and he draws another of his ow n, that men w ho live “ordinarily” in great adversity or prosperity deserve less praise or blame because “most times” they are draw n to ruin or greatness “by a great advantage done for them by the heavens, furnishing or depriving them of opportunity to work virtuously.” His conclusion is so constructed as to suggest that adversity, or even ruin, is the opportunity of virtue. Improving and modifying^this^point,' Machiavelli says Fortune, when it wishes to conduct “great things,”16 elects a man who is of such spirit (spirito) and

%

virtue as to recognize the opportunity offered. In the same w ay if it wishes to cause great ruin, it advances men to promote the ruin, and if anyone is in the way, it kills him or deprives him of all his faculties for doing anything good. Fortune’s helpers in destruction are men in the plural, those w ith the blinded spirits, whereaTTfs elected creator is an individual man who must contribute his ow n recognition of the opportunity; and w hen Fortune does not elect him, it must still get him out of the w ay, and by means even more certain than blind¬ ing. To illustrate this manner of proceeding Machiavelli refers again to Livy’s text, and now divulges that Fortune’s design w as not to destroy Rome but rather maffliet itTonihe purpose of leading it to greatness, “as we will discuss at length aytheT>eginnmg-of-the followingiayok” (III 1, w hose topic is reviving by return¬ ing to the beginnings, not fortune). So Fortune had Camillus exiled and not killed, Rome taken and not the Capitol, and ordered that the Romans think of nothing good to defend Rome antj omit nothing to defend the CapitokJLu.have Rome taken. Fortune also had most of the defeated Roman soldiers go to Veii, so as to remove all ways of defending the city. This measure reveals the last tw ist of Fortune’s design. Not only did it intend good despite its afflictions, but the afflictions contained hidden^ goods; for Rome now7 had an army intact and Camillus untainted with the ignominy of defeat forlts captain, ready for the recovery of his fatherland.17 The previous point is illustrated: for Fortune to elect a city it must elect a man. We can easily imagine another Camillus ready to recapture his native land w ith the army remaining from an earlier rout. Machiavelli does not judge it necessary to bring up a modern example, pre¬ sumably because he has just presented a modern version of Fortune. He “as¬ serts” again that, according to what is seen in all the histories, “men” are able to 15. Livy, V 40. 12; S., p. 135. 16. See D. II 22, title. 17. Cf. Hannibal in D. II 27 (end).

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assist Fortune but not to thwart it, to weave her webs but not to break them. They ought, then, never to abandon themselves, because not know ing Fortune’s end, w hich goes by crossed and unknow n w ays, they have alw ays to hope, and in hoping not to abandon themselves in whatever fortune and travail they may find themselves. After this heartening address one knows not to abandon him¬ self, but does not know w hether to pray and to w hom—to a human prince? (II 14, 15)—or to rely on one’s ow n arms. The hope is hard to distinguish from the false hope of II 27, as it is based on the blindness of men to Fortune’s designs. It seems to be urged upon those “men” in the plural who are incapable of recognizing and exploiting an opportunity offered by Fortune. The man of virtue can find hope in the possibility of w eaving Fortune’s web, from w hich he

II 30

learns that men are not fated to unrequited love. The following chapter, by supplying the conclusion to Rome’s peril from the French, gives a new conclusion on man’s relation to Fortune. Its title makes no reference to Fortune: “Republics and princes truly powerful do not buy friend¬ ships w ith money but w ith virtue and the reputation of forces.” Rut Machiavclli begins by relating how the Romans, besieged in the Capitol and pursued by hunger, were about to buy off the French when (kmiillus appeared w ith his army, “w hich fortune did, says the historian [and he quotes from Livy], so that the Romans would not live redeemed by gold.” It is now Livy’s opinion, merely quoted by Machiavclli, that Fortune had a design and was benevolent to the Romans; and the title gives the merit of unbought freedom to virtue and reputa¬ tion of forces instead of to Fortune. Actually Livy had spoken of gods and men and not of Fortune in that passage,18 but Machiavclli has in mind an acquisition of pow er for men, to w hich a higher role for Fortune serves as a transition. This one action of (AnnHiis1 was characteristic of the Romans. They never bought lands nor made peace with money, but alw ays with the “virtue of arms,” which “I do not believe1' ever happened w ith any other republic. Since the Romans were about to make peace with money in this instance, their virtue of arms was concentrated in the virtue of ('ami 11 us, and in the “countless very virtuous princes” that succeeded one another in that republic (I 20). Among other “signs” by w hich one may know the “pow er of a strong state” is to see how it lives w ith its neighbors, that is, whether they are its tributaries (pensionari) to have it as a friend, or draw money from it although they are inferior, which is a great sign of weakness. Machiavclli says that reading the Roman histories, you will see (vedrete, compare I 5819) how certain republics and kings paid tribute; he names six from outside Italy but close to the borders of the Roman empire. But Florence, Venice, and the king of France, named next by an easy transition from the tributaries of Rome, have all paid subsidies to inferior neighbors as the consequence of having disarmed their peoples, preferring rather to enjoy a pres¬ ent profit of plundering the people and to avoid an imagined rather than a real 18. Livy, V 49. 1. 19. S., p. 309n49.

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danger, than to do things which would secure them and make their states happy forever. Such rhetorical blame should be inspected for its nonrhetorical basis, for the “cause” why this policy necessarily leads in time to harm and irremediable ruin. To rely on money, as we have seen in II 10, is to rely on fortune insofar as one relies on the arms of others, and is the more expensive when one buys security from an imagined danger. The promise of a happy state in perpetuo should also be taken seriously as eonfirming the possibility of overcoming the chanee of cyclical greatness and weakness in states. It would be long, Machiavelli con¬ tinues in the rhetorical vein, to recount how many times the Florentines, the Venetians, and “this kingdom” (the French) have bought themselves off in wars, and how many times they have submitted to ignominy, to which the Romans submitted only once. No doubt this w as their submission to the Samnites at the Caudine Forks (II 23), or another submission signified by that one. It would take long to recount how many lands the Florentines and Venetians bought w ith gold, which they could not defend with iron.20 Then we are told that the Romans observed their “generosity” (of receiving rather than paying tribute) while they w ere free, but afterward under the emperors, w hen the emperors began to be bad and to love the shade more than the sun, they also began to buy off the Parthians, Germans, and other surrounding peoples—which was the beginning of the ruin of the Roman empire. Machiavelli has promised more than even the Romans achieved. He makes the promise openly, but rhetorically, so that it need not be taken seriously. We return now' to a theme of II 12. From the “inconvenience” of having disarmed your people results another greater one, w hich is that the closer your enemy approaches you, the weaker he finds you. For whoever lives as a trib¬ utary treats badly those subjects inside the empire and treats well those on the borders of his empire in order to have men w ell placed for keeping the enemy at a distance (discosto). Such states put up a little resistance at the borders, but once the enemy has passed it, they have no remedy. One should keep the heart and other vital parts of the body well armed rather than the extremities, but this policy keeps the “heart disarmed and the hands and feet armed.” This is a nice description of modern weakness, but it also reminds one of classical political philosophy defending man at the border betw een the human and the nonhuman but disarming men w ith a teaching of gentleness and moderation. Machiavelli repeats his three modern examples, the Florentines, the Venetians, and France, remarking that the Venetians have recently been saved only because they are surrounded by w ater. The Romans, however, became stronger as the enemy approached Rome, as we are asked to credit from the story of the tw o questions asked of Hannibal’s ambassadors (oratori) by Hanno after the victory at Cannae. Hanno asked 20. D. II 10; Livy, V 49.3

THE PASSIONS OF IDLENESS

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28 7

whether the Romans had sued for peace and w hether any land had rebelled from the Romans, and receiving negative answers, said that the w ar was still on. To understand the relevance of this story here, w e must first make a dutiful effort to convince ourselves that the Romans w ere stronger after the battle of Cannae. Then we can consider w hether the mention of I lannibal’s ambassadors was needed to put us in mind of those border-dw ellers in modern states who live w ell on provisions furnished from the disarmed heart. Machiavelli has said that the foundation of the Roman state was the people of Rome, the “Latin name,” the other associated lands in Italy, and their colonies; and w e can at last observe that if the Latin name remains, the two questions of Hanno would not distin¬ guish ancient from modern Rome. The chapter concludes without asking men to abandon themselves to hope, although they have been told that money will not help. Machiavelli stresses again how diverse are the modes of proceeding of present and ancient republics, but he comments on present republics as they are and how they might be. As they are, one sees every day miraculous losses and gains, “for w here men have little virtue, fortune shows its power greatly, and because it is variable, repub¬ lics and states often vary; and they w ill always vary until someone arises w ho is such a lover of antiquity as to regulate it so that it does not have cause to show, at every revolution of the sun, how much it can do.” Rather than a false hope w e

II 31

are again given a promise of unchanging or nearly unchanging felicity, to be made actual by some one lover of antiquity w ho w ill achieve w hat the greatest state of antiquity did not achieve. W ith his virtue he will “regulate” fortune, which apparently means that he will dampen its variability. Where there is a little virtue, and not because nature has decreed it (compare 1 37), fortune shows its power by its variability. Fortune after all has no end or design beyond showing its power and so show ing it frowardly; the hidden goods it seems to bring are contrived by men in the act of overcoming fortune and w ith the aim of reducing it to the regularity of the sun’s revolutions. The superhuman pow er of this regularity must be admitted, for good and for ill, but not that of fortune. In this chapter we have had two signs (not heavenly signs) of power, the payment of tribute and variability. They are connected when men attempt to secure their hopes or their fortune by paying money to buy the good will of superhuman powers. If II 29 discusses prayer in Machiavelli’s peculiar w ay, so in the same way II 30 discusses sacrifices. Sacrificing to the power that regulates Providence is how the pious try to master Fortune; so it is fitting that in this respect w e learn that the spirits blinded by Fortune can be explained as lack of virtue. But to make this explanation, Machiavelli had to reduce “spirit” (spirito) to “heart,” w hich as he states quite explicitly, is a vital part of the body. In the ninety-first chapter Machiavelli discusses “how dangerous it is to believe exiles,” a question which, he declares, does not seem to him outside his purpose since it is a thing that statesmen have to handle every day. He is able to demonstrate it with a memorable example from Livy although it is outside

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Livy’s subject {presupposto). The example concerns a war fought in Italy in which the Romans were not involved, and Livy therefore apologizes for introducing it into a Roman history. Machiavelli’s subject is not Livy’s, and as there is no Roman example in the chapter, we can infer that Machiavelli’s subject is not necessarily Roman21 and that Livy’s excellence is to speak more memorably than he knew. What was not relevant, though known to him, has become relevant to Machiavelli and the two examples in the chapter, both ancient and non-Roman, make us think of that element in modernity that w as inherited from ancient times but not from Rome. This element is the same as that which distinguishes modernity from classical antiquity; it is the characteristic element of modernity that statesmen have to handle every day. When Alexander the Great had crossed into Asia w ith his army, Alexander of Lpirus, his brother-in-law and uncle, came with his men into Italy at the call of some exiled Lucanians w ho gave him the hope that he could seize all that province w ith their help. With their faith and hope he came, and they killed him, as they had been promised return to their fatherland by their citizens if they did so. Livy has it that Alexander came to Italy after hearing of the threat of an oracle, and there encountered the fate he meant to escape. And w hile Livy merely remarks that the Lucanians were faithless as a nation,22 Machiavelli comments at length on the faithlessness of exiles as such: for trusting exiles who promise you their fatherland is one way to encounter your ow n fate. He says that one should consider how vain are the faith and promises of those who are deprived of their fatherland because, as to faith, one must reckon that whenever they can reenter their fatherland w ith other means than yours, they w ill leave you and join the others regardless of the promises they have made you. And as to the vain promises and hopes, so extreme is their w ish to return home that they naturally believe many false things and artfully add to them many others, such that between the things they believe and the things they say they believe, they fill you w ith hope, and relying on that, you enter into vain expense or an enterprise w here you are ruined. Reading this comment, one moves from the faithlessness w hich makes exiles betray their promises to their own patriotism which naturally makes them believe many false things and then inspire false hopes in others; their deception is based on self-deception into which they are carried by their very patriotism. These exiles, whose identity as priests and philosophers should by now not be difficult to establish, praise their own land to foreigners, but take it themselves first if they can. It appears that patriotism, love of one’s own land, is stronger than faith, or is the strongest faith, but it is naturally subject to mistake. Men are by nature patriotic, but when separated from their fatherland, they wish for it so hard that besides deceiving others they deceive themselves and offer prom¬ ises to others on the basis, w e suppose, of promises they think have been offered 21. Livy, VI11 24. 18; S., pp. 96-97. 22. Livy, V111 24. 1-6; S., p. 205. See A.G. VII (503) where NM confuses the two Alexanders.

[I 31

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to themselves. In particular, they promise their own land to others beeause they believe or say they believe it has been promised to themselves. I he second example, added as an afterthought, is Themistocles, who being made a rebel, fled to Asia to Darius, and to him made such great promises, if he would attaek Greece, that Darius undertook the enterprise. When Themistocles was unable to keep his promises, he poisoned himself, “either for shame or for fear of punishment.” Thus while Alexander was killed because he believed others’ promises, Themistocles killed himself beeause others had believed his promises, that is, beeause he had believed them himself. His promises to Darius, who incidentally had long been dead and would have been recorded as Xerxes or Artaxerxes by a historian—these promises were based on faith in himself combined w ith faith in his ow n native country. If this “error,” we are told, was committed by Themistocles, a most excellent man, one should reckon how much more they err in this who, having less virtue, let themselves be led more by their w ish and their passion {passione). A prince therefore should be slow to take up an enterprise on the story (relazione) of an exile (confinato), because “most times” he w ill be left either with shame or with very grave harm. So the prince w ho acts on promises not kept, as well as the exile w ho cannot keep his promises, may come to shame. But in the context of .Vlachiavelli’s purpose, shame is less interesting than its alternative. How could Themistocles have committed the error of suicide for fear of punishment? Fear of punishment does not appear in Maehiavelli’s sources,23 and it implies guilt rather than shame, a guilt to which all are liable, though felt more by men of less virtue as opposed to the noble shame of w hich only a 1 hemistocles is capable. In this chapter w e are taught to identify guilt as fear of punishment lor being separated from one’s fatherland, in regard to which it may be noted that this is the only use of passione in a section of chapters devoted to the passions. “Most times,” then, one should bew are of the stories of exiles, and since very grave harm hurts worse than shame, more for the guilt than for the shame that may ensue; but an exile w ho can contrive a story that promises other exiles safe return to their fatherland at the expense of foreign invaders w ill have a powerful and useful argument. In II 29 we were told that it was because Camillus had been banished that he could return to save Rome. After his w arning to a prince to be slow to aet on the story of an exile, Maehiavelli shifts to the subject of the next chapter. He says that since seizing lands by stealth and by the intelligence that they have inside them also rarely succeeds, “it does not seem outside my purpose to discuss them in the following chapter,” adding how many ways the Romans acquired them. The formula “not outside my purpose” occurs at the end of a chapter three times in the Discourses (1 58; II 31, III 5), alw ays preceding a discussion of conspiracy or faithlessness. 24 23. Indeed, it is disputed whether Themistocles committed suicide; see Plutarch, Themistocles 31, T hucydides, 1 138, and especially Cicero, Brutus \1 43. 24. ' S., pp. 307n22, 313n24, 327nl86.

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This is the only chapter that begins and ends with the phrase “not outside my purpose,” and may be supposed to contain a special disclosure. The following ehapter contains no mention of exiles, and in the heading, the topic Machiavelli says he will add to the topic of taking lands or cities (terre) by stealth is the only one mentioned: “In how many modes the Romans seized cities [terre]." There seem to be three ways of taking lands, by one count at least, and of these the central is taking them stealthily. Thus he gives us a glimpse of his method of composition in which the chapter’s topic is protected, and yet introduced, with w rapping that fills most of the space. It is also clearly up to us to find the connection between exiles and the taking of cities by stealth. Since all the Romans were involved in w ar, Machiavelli begins, they alw ays carried it on with every advantage as to expense and everything else, and accordingly they did their best to avoid taking cities by siege, judging that the expense and trouble of it w ere far greater than the utility of w hat might be ac¬ quired. We note the insistence on all the Romans, when one might have ex¬ pected “the Romans always.” In so many wars for so many years, therefore, there are very few examples of sieges by the Romans, and the modes apparently distinct from siege by w hich they did acquire cities may be divided into storm¬ ing (espugnazione) and surrender (dedizione). The former may then be divided into storming “by force and open violence” and “by force mixed w ith fraud”; these divisions yield the three modes discussed in the chapter. As to the first mode of open violence, one may distinguish, on the one hand, an attaek without breaking the w alls, w hich the Romans called “attacking the city with a crown,” that is, by simultaneous attack from a circle surrounding the city, and on the other hand, an attack that breaks the walls w ith rams and other war machines or tunnels under them. Machiavelli cites Scipio’s capture of New Carthage as an example of attaeking “with a crow n” in one assault, though in faet the Romans w ere at first repulsed, and took the eity by means of a surprise attack from the rear led by Scipio.25 The example of successful attack by tunneling was the taking of the city of Veii, here included with open violence but in a previous chapter (I 13) offered as an example of religion w ell used; it w as also taken by siege, as we are soon reminded. The Romans in addition made wooden towers or piled up mounds of earth to be on a level with the defenders of the w alls. Defenders against attaeks “w ith a crown” are in immediate danger from the modes of encirclement because every place must be defended, and w ith an equal spirit of resistance; such attacks succeeded many times. But if the attaek did not succeed at once, it could not be maintained for long, for the attackers were spread out and disordered, thus vulnerable to a sally from w ithin. In regard to attacks designed to break the w alls, Maehiavelli lists a number of countermea¬ sures to each, including the contrivance of burning feathers in the enemy’s tunnels so as to impede his entry w ith the smoke and the stench. But he does not 25. Livy, XXVI 45-46. NM also overlooks this fact in A.G. VII (503-504).

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name any of these ingenious as well as obstinate (II 2) defenders of their liberty. Returning to the attaekers, he says that as these modes of storming cannot be continued for a long time, one must either paek up the camp or seek other methods of winning the war, as did Scipio when having entered Africa and having unsuccessfully attacked Utica, he packed up his camp and sought to defeat the Carthaginian armies. Scipio did both the “either” and the “or,” lor Machiavelli is training us to be critical of his divisions of the subject.26 Or indeed, he continues, one may resort to siege, as the Romans did at Veii, Capua, Carthage, Jerusalem, and similar cities, which (he repeats) they took by siege. Are these “very few examples”? They are surely not unimportant ones. And why did the Romans not resort to “stealthy violence,” the name now given to the second mode of taking cities, rather than to siege with all its expense and trouble? As to acquiring cities by stealthy violence, it may happen as it did at Paleopolis, which the Romans took by dealing (trattato) w ith those inside. Machiavelli does not mention that those inside, in this case, were Greeks and Samnites at odds w ith each other.27 Of this kind of “storming” by the Romans and others, many have been attempted and few have succeeded, and the reason is that every least impediment disrupts the plan, and impediments come easily. I he “conspiracy” may be uncovered before it is put into action, because of the infidelity of those among whom it is communicated, for one must come to terms w ith enemies and with those to whom it is not permitted to speak except under some “color.” Machiavelli himself faces this difficulty in communicating w ith his conspirators, and he solves it by making his discourses serve also as a trattato of conspiracy. After the difficulties in “managing” the conspiracy are a thousand difficulties in the act, for example, the “fortuitous noise” that the geese on the Capitol made. It was not Fortune, designing to save Rome, w ho caused that famous noise, because we were told in II 29 that Fortune had caused the Romans not to omit “any good order” to defend the Capitol.28 Machiavelli makes the barest allusion to this chance which according to legend saved Rome, but it takes on significance from his having discussed at length the working of Fortune in II 29-30, and having begun the second book w ith the question w hether virtue or fortune was more the cause of the Roman empire. To these difficulties in the act of conspiracy one must add the shadow s of the night that firing fear to those w ho work in dangerous things, confounding the majority of men who are not expert in the “site of the country” w ith “every least fortuitous accident” and “every false image.” No one was ever happier in these “fraudulent and nocturnal expeditions” than Aratus of Sicyon, w ho was a cow ¬ ard in “daytime and open factions,” but one could judge that he succeeded at night rather by an “occult virtue” in him than because such expeditions should 26. Livy, XXX 8-9. 2; A.G. VII (505). 27. Livy, VIII 25. 28. Livy, V 47. 1-4.

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naturally have had more success. We recall the occult virtue attributed to the people in I 58 by which they foresee their own bad and good in the light of day. Aratus, the daytime coward, who was not a Roman, acquires cities in the night w ith his occult virtue. Seeing ahead and seeing in the dark are alike in being occult, but also dissimilar and complementary in w hat they contribute to the common good as the end and the means. Occult virtue may be taken for Machiavelli’s understanding of and substitute for Fortune or Providence analyzed into the characteristic praeternatural vision of the two natural parties: princes and people. These modes, he concludes, are much attempted, but few come to the test and very few succeed. The mode of acquiring cities through surrender is divided into voluntary or forced surrender. Voluntary surrender arises in turn either from some extrinsic necessity w hich forces one to take refuge, as did Capua under the Romans, or through a desire to be governed well, when men are attracted by the good gov¬ ernment w ith w hich “some” prince holds those w ho have voluntarily thrown themselves into his lap, as w ere the Rhodians, the Massilians, and other similar cities who gave themselves to (“that” prince) the Roman people (see II 2). These cases have been cited before, but for the other side. The Capuans were said (II 20, 21) to have thrown themselves into the lap of the Romans w hen they asked for a praetor to resolve an internal discord, not to bend to an extrinsic necessity; and the Rhodians and Massilians were said (II 30) to have paid trib¬ ute to the Romans to buy their friendship, not in submissive recognition of their superior government. The distinction barely survives the help of its examples, and w hile the first kind of voluntary surrender does not reach the dignity of choice, the second rises above it to the acceptance of a kind of intrinsic neces¬ sity. Perhaps the middle that men can attain in government is composed of these extremes: though all government consists in “voluntary surrender,” the pain of obeying extrinsic necessity is eased by the pleasure of receiving someone else’s surrender. By analyzing voluntary surrender without mentioning the element of one’s own, which was so prominent in II 31, Machiavelli seems to be at¬ tempting to explain that element. We have still to consider forced surrender, divided into surrenders forced by long sieges, as w as said above, and those arising from a “continuous oppression of raids, depradations, and other ill treatment.” A city “w ishing to avoid” the latter gives up, w e suppose in a ceremony difficult to distinguish from voluntary surrender. Of all the modes described, the Romans used this last one more than any, and for more than four hundred and fifty years wore out their neighbors with defeats and raids, and by means of treaties seized an ascendancy (>nputazione) over them. So many years of raids and treaties amount to a con¬ tinuous succession of “short and big” w ars (II 6) mixed w ith fraudulent treaties (II 1), or open force mixed w ith fraud. After beginning the chapter by dismissing the mode of siege from the practice of the Romans, Machiavelli comes back to continuous short sieges as the mode of the Romans combining the advantages w ithout the disadvantages of the three

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modes given. This mode was alw ays their foundation, he says, even though they tried all the modes. The foreign policy of seizing the cities corresponds to the domestic policy w e have seen in Book 1 of maintaining a continuous succes¬ sion of most virtuous princes w ith short terms of office w ho must therefore obtain quick victories (I 20, 37). This chapter concludes that the Romans saw that w ith a defeat of an enemy army they acquired a kingdom in a day, and in taking an obstinate city through siege they used up many years. Acquiring a kingdom in a day, or encircling a city by a “crown” and capturing it without breaking its walls, is the opposite that can be combined, according to the Roman mode of continuous short sieges, w ith the long siege of an obstinate city.

8.

The Captain's Free Commission (II 33)

In the section of a single chapter that concludes Book II, Machiavelli brings his thoughts on foreign policy to an intersection w ith his thoughts on domestic policy, the subject of Book I. Book I had ended w ith a single-chapter section, “How the consulate and any magistrate w hatever in Rome was given w ithout respect to age.” The heading of II 33 is: “I low the Romans gave free commis¬ sions [that is, full discretion] to the captains of their armies.” This “mode of proceeding” is shown to be a w ay of using the idle passion for glory in a captain as a “check and a rule to make him operate well.” Correspondingly, in I 60, the consulate given without respect to age was also given w ithout respect to noble blood so as to nourish in the people their hope of having the consulate. “Un¬ necessary” passions in both princes anti peoples, such as ambition and glory, can be used in necessary political functions both domestic and foreign for the purpose of giving useful employment to energies w hich otherw ise w ill become bad humors and the fuel of corruption. Such a purpose, how ever, w as not held by the Romans; it was or w ill have to be, advanced by a captain having a free commission from them, w ho know ingly takes advantage of necessity but offers 33

his enterprise as a gift, a benefit for mankind. Machiavelli “estimates” that the reader of “this Livian history” w ishing to gain profit from it must consider “all the modes of proceeding of the Roman people and Senate,” but among them Machiavelli considers only the very great authority w ith w hich the Romans “sent outside” their consuls, dictators, and other captains of armies. “All the modes” reminds us of “all the Romans” at the beginning of II 32, and if “all the Romans” can be partly represented in the nighttime fraud of the non-Roman Aratus, all their modes can culminate, as w e shall see, in the disobedience of their instructions by Fabius. We remark that consuls and dictators are presented here as “captains,” thus combining the highest political with the highest military office, as w ell as domestic with for¬ eign policy. Captains were “sent outside” rather than elected, as magistrates were said to be in I 60, and the present chapter does not mention election or discuss reward. Indeed, sending outside seems to have a flavor of exiling (II 31)

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as distinguished from electing. When the Senate (Machiavelli temporarily drops “the people”) sent a captain outside, it reserved for itself only the authority to start new w ars and to make peace and left everything else to the discretion and power (potesta) of the consul, for—the sentence is restated in the guise of a causal explanation—when the people and the Senate had decided upon a war, for instance against the Latins, they left all the rest to the discretion of the consul, w ho could join a battle or not and lay siege to this or that land (compare II 32) as appeared best to him. There is potential confusion in these statements, and perhaps in the very idea, of a “free commission.” These things are verified by many examples, and especially in w hat happened in an expedition not against the Latins but against the Tuscans. After Fabius had defeated the Tuscans, he planned then to pass through the Ciminian forest with his army and to go into Tuscany, and not only did he not ask the advice of the Senate but did not give it any notice of his intention, even though w ar would have to be made in a country that was new, doubtful, and dangerous. This (what?) is also testified to by the decisions made by the Senate contrary to Fabius, for having heard of his victory, then suspecting that he would resolve to pass through the said forests into Tuscany, and judging that it would be well not to attempt that war and risk that danger, the Senate sent two legates to Fabius to inform him that he w as not to go into Tuscany. They arrived after he had already gone and had won a victory; so in place of impeders of the war they became ambassadors of the conquest and of the glory won. Such is our example: Fabius’ prudent disobedience in seizing his ow n com¬ mission, not merely to join battle or lay siege but actually to begin what he and the Senate both recognized as a new war, is equaled by Maehiavelli’s impudence in offering that action, sanza alcuno rispetto, as an example of a commission freely given. Just as the Romans were pleased to accept a conquest won for their glory and interest in defiance of their anticipated instructions, so we cannot but admire an example that flatly contradicts the generalization of w hich it is offered as the sole illustration and the special verification. To receive an unexpected benefit is no compliment to one’s capacities, but the disagreeable sensation of having gained despite one’s will and prudence can be overwhelmed by as¬ tonishment that a man could succeed in an enterprise held to be incredible. Machiavelli does not give Livy’s reason for the success of Fabius’ passage through a forest that no Roman had ever entered. Livy says that Marcus Fabius, the consul’s brother, offered to explore it, since he had been educated in the Etruscan language and w ritings, an education then as common for Roman boys as a Greek education in Livy’s time. Marcus went out in the “bold disguise” of a shepherd. “But,” says Livy, “neither familiarity with the language nor the fashion of their dress and weapons protected them as much as the repugnancy to belief that any outsider would enter the Ciminian gorges.”1 Machiavelli is also a 1. Livy, IX 36. 6; S., pp. 106-107.

[I 33

THE CAPTAIN’S FREE COMMISSION

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brother to Fabius with a Tuscan education, the same protection of an incredible enterprise, and the design of successfully disregarding the doubts of his beneficiaries. No institution can give a truly free commission because institutions are based on expectations of the ordinary, and men will not authorize what they cannot conceive of. Perhaps this is w hy the notion of election as rew ard is missing in this chapter. Flection is necessary to the working of Machiavelli’s new regime, but to establish the regime and to renew it, a legislator must elect himself for the doing of an extraordinary or inconceivable task to w hich he could not be elected by the majority of men w ho underestimate the capacity of man. But if men are too narrow minded to elect a Fabius, they are by the same token too ingenuous not to wonder at his success; so they are forced to admire anti applaud him by the very lack of imagination that caused them to doubt him. Men are like the legates w ho came to hinder Fabius and left as ambassadors of his glory; or, it might be better to say that those legates, whom w e have identified in II 30-32, represent credulous men, those who believe in limits to human capacities, and that Machiavelli hints at a new role for priests in particular. Livy mentions five legates and two tribunes, the latter presumably to give greater force to the instructions of the Senate;2 but Machiavelli reduces them to two legates. Men cannot give orders to a captain like Fabius; it is he w ho gives them their commis¬ sion. Machiavelli’s commission was effected by captains or lieutenants inventive in a natural science w hose end is the “enlarging of the bounds of human em¬ pire,” for w e today greet the advances of this science with an almost customary wonder at the incredible capacity of man. It is by means of this wonder that the aristocratic patronage of superior men is concealed, as a largely undeserving mankind claims a share of their glory in return for receiving their benefits w ithout envy and ingratitude (see I 43). The question of Fabius’ glory occupies the last paragraph of the second book. Machiavelli says, against the sense of the example, that whoever considers this limit (termine) w ell w ill see that it was “very prudently used,”3 because if the Senate has w ished that a consul proceed to w ar “from hand to hand” according to the one w ho commissioned him, that would make him “less circumspect and more slow ” as it w ould not have seemed to him that the glory of the victory w as all his, but that the Senate w ith whose advice he was governed shared in it. Besides, the Senate would be obliged to advise on a thing it could not under¬ stand, for although all the men in it w ere highly skilled in w ar, still not being on the spot and not knowing the countless particulars that are necessary to know in order to advise well, they w ould have made countless errors in advising. For this they w ished the consul to act by himself and that all the glory be his, “the love of w hich they judged to be a check and a rule to make him operate w ell.” The reasoning moves from glory to know ledge and back to glory, connecting 2. Livy, IX 36. 14. 3. Cf. prudentissimo in P. 23.

296

I

BOOK II

the interest a man takes in what is his own with the knowledge he needs for his undertakings. His providence and his knowledge become mutualjvjieees&ary in his attention to the countless partie ularsom thespot, where -he _will not know unless he cares and cannot carejnnless he knows- If the relation between the Romans and their captains suggests that between God and man, one could find the difference in the importance of being on the spot. When men are on the spot or in place (in sul luogo), their love of glory makes them “operate well.” Since Machiavelli has also said that their necessity makes them “operate w ell” (I 3; II 12), we conclude that love of glory, the unnecessary passion par excellence, is congruent w ith human necessity when men are on the spot. Within this “limit” their love of glory acts as a check and a rule against the idleness and corruption whose passions have been manipulated, according to the preceding section of chapters, so as to keep men from operating well. Machiavelli closes by saying that he himself has noted this policy the more w illingly as “I see” that republics of the present times, such as the Venetian and the Florentine, understand it differently; and if their captains, stew ards (provveditori) or commissioners have to place one cannon (una artigliera) they w ish to know it and to give advice. This mode merits the same praise as their others, which all together have brought them to the bounds (termini) where at present they find themselves. So the denial of free commissions is said to be united w ith all the others that make for the w eakness of modern republics. It is not easy to see why this should be so if we are content w ith an “ordinary” (and nonliteral) interpretation of this chapter. The giving of free commissions w as an issue in ancient politics, for example in the Athenian debate on the Sicilian expedition, which could be put in an aggravated w ay as a test betw een the love of glory in captains and the piety of peoples, or as a test between human and divine glory. Christianity, especially with the power of its “artillery,” or propaganda, has upset the balance of these pow ers, and made necessary Maehiavelli’s interven¬ tion on the side of human glory and of the armed princes w ho live for it. He took for himself from the “Senate,” the classical tradition, the free commission of sending others on free commission, that is, w ith the freedom to be altogether bad. But since the method of his “one cannon” resembles the principal w eapon of the modern army, he could just as much think himself the partisan, as he w as the reformer, of such disarmed republics as Venice and Florence (see II 30). In this w ay the glory of all mankind and human necessity are united only, or most of all, in his ow n incredible enterprise.

BOOK III Introduction Book III has no proemium, for Machiavelli has explained the context of his inquiry provisionally in the proemium to the first book and definitively in the proemium to the second. In the first proemium we w ere told that he is bringing “new modes and orders” by w riting on Livy’s ancient history “according to know ledge of ancient and modern things.” The problem of bringing new w ays and at the same time restoring “ancient virtue” w as left unresolved, because it w as necessary for Machiavelli to begin w ith the prejudice in favor of ancient things in order to gain a hearing for his new proposals. By the time we have reached the second proemium, we have seen the open break betw een Machiavelli and Livy regarding the constancy of the multitude (1 58) and we have observed in general that Maehiavelli’s Rome is not Livy’s. In the second proemium, since the prejudice in favor of ancient things has served its first purpose, Machiavelli exposes and explains it. This prejudice had been understood as such by the ancient w riters w ho conceived that the course of polities w as a cycle, in which ancient things by comparison w ith modern things sometimes merit praise and sometimes do not. But, after stating this objection, Machiavelli adds to it and in effect cancels it. 1 Ie says that in his time and place, he w ho praises ancient times does not deceive himself, nor is this happy situa¬ tion an accident of the cycle. Men, especially young men, can be made to desire the future if they are taught by praise of the past to reject the present. If the cycle were in force, it would be futile to desire the future, but Machiavelli has a plan for overcoming the cycle in which the prejudice in favor of ancient things serves a revolutionary rather than a conservative purpose. With this preparation w e need no reorientation to understand how , in the title of III 1, “to intend that a sect or a republic live for a long time, it is necessary to bring it back often tow ard its beginning.” The necessary renew al is a renova¬ tion, and its purpose is not to bring back old w ays and orders but to restore the fear that men felt at the beginning, w hen old ways and orders were new . But it the problem of old and new is now settled, and can be stated in general form in III 1, the relationships between domestic and foreign and public and private remain a puzzle. Book I had considered public counsel on “inside things” and had show n, in

298

BOOK III

suitably unobtrusive indications, that the public counsel of Rome’s regime rested on a hidden government by private motives; Book II did the same for public counsel on “outside things.” The stage is now set for the hidden management of politics by a private man, but it must be shown that his management furthers an intention not, or not merely, to command or oppress others—the private motive of an ordinary prince—but to bring “common benefit to everyone.” “T his third book and last part” considers both domestic and foreign affairs in the “actions of particular men” and, we soon see, in the actions of a particular man whose service to mankind justifies, as it necessitates, his working in private. This man cannot serve the public good because his service to mankind requires that he serve the public good of human governments generally and hence impartially. His life is devoted to his fatherland, but the fatherland which he loves more than his own soul is the earth or this world. His war in defense of this world restrains his partiality toward Italy or Florence, for reflection and hard experience have taught him that protection of this world against the next is necessary to any defense of one’s fatherland against foreign invaders. This world is the root of anyone’s patria. Machiavelli cannot be content, then, with service to the public good, not even with that highest service which is the office of a founder. The founder can “help the common good” (I 9) and at the same time “be alone” (I 18) only at the expense of other states and other princes, but Machiavelli can help all the states and princes of this world by spreading his political science to other teachers and then to “executors,” those w ho carry his burden a short w ay to its destined place (I pr.). To spread his doctrine, he must become a “captain,” a disarmed captain w ith a spiritual army of the kind indi¬ cated under the surface and as described on the surface of Book II when Machiavelli discusses nonspiritual armies. With his free commission (II 3 3) this captain is like a founder in the full sense of one who is alone or fully private and hence universal; he is the founder-captain who transcends the distinction be¬ tween foreign and domestic affairs because he is not devoted to any one “public” or state. According to the cyclical analysis of politics presented in the Discourses, Machiavelli could bring a “common benefit to everyone” only by showing how to overcome the cycle of good regimes and bad, so that virtue does not produce leisure and corruption. Thus to overcome the cycle, the founder-captain must contrive to extend his influence, even maintain his presence, not only beyond his own native country but also beyond his own time to his successors who have been made complacent by his very virtue. This he can also do, Machiavelli thought, on the model of Christianity. Thus, as a whole Book III combines Books I and II on domestic and foreign affairs, but because of its borrowing from Christianity, it is closer to Book II. The First section of chapters, III 1-15, presents the founder-captain, the founder in chapters 1-8, the captain in 10-15, w ith the transition in chapter 9.1 This section is followed by one on morality 1. S., pp. 103-105, 316n40, n44.

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and people, III 16-34; and the Third Book ends with a section on Machiavelli’s enterprise, III 35-49.

1. III 1

The Founder-Captain (III 1-15)

The first chapter begins with a statement of a scholastic flavor on the corrup¬ tibility of the world, but Machiavelli soon makes it clear that this corruptibility need not be accepted, and hence leaves it to be inferred that a life devoted to curing the ills of worldly things need not be futile. It is a very true thing, he says, that all things of the world have a limit to their life, but they “generally” go through the entire course ordered for them by heaven and do not disorder their body but keep it in an ordered w ay w hich either does not change or if it does, the change is for its w ell-being and not to its harm. On examination, this “limit" refers not so much to the mortality of worldly things as to the course in w hich they generally move; and the course may be altered, and altered for the better. Such use of termine would be consistent with the last preceding use of it at the end of II 33, where Machiavelli spoke of the “limits” in which republics at present find themselves. But the truth regarding things of this world is not among those things, but rather belongs to or is “heaven," because the truth does not change. Here he continues: since I am speaking of “mixed bodies such as republics and sects,” I say that those changes are for their well-being that take them back toward their beginnings. As opposed to the Biblical view, things were not perfect at their beginning; yet they can be changed for their w ell-being by being brought back tow ard their beginnings, either by having orders that can often be renewed or by coming to renew al through some accident “outside the said order.” It is “clearer than light" that if these bodies do not renew themselves, they do not last. Machiavelli w ill make it clearer than light (compare 1117 for the phrase). The mode of renewing them, “as w as said" (it w as not), is to take them back toward their beginnings. One must take republics, sects, and kingdoms (now added) back tow ard their beginnings in order to renew them: the returning is for the sake of renew ing. The reason for returning is that the beginnings of such bodies must have some goodness (bonta) (compare I 2, “some reverence”) in them by which they gain their first reputation and their first increase. In the “process of time” this goodness becomes corrupt, if nothing returns it to the mark (segno), and of necessity kills that body. Returning tow ard the beginning means returning to the condition of being new, lively, and exciting. Machiavelli quotes a piece of Latin from doctors of medicine speaking of the human body: “Kvery day something is added w hich at some time needs cure.” By the analogy between the human body and mixed bodies, one must suppose that the latter must have been imperfect at their beginnings and needed to grow.2 Returning toward the beginning does not 2. S., pp. 166-167; Luigi Peirone, Piccolo Machiavelli (Bologna, 1971), pp. 28-29.

300 III 1

BOOK III

mean resuming the original constitution but curing the corruptions that come with growth. Machiavelli’s “return toward the beginnings” is the contrary of conservatism. Instead of opposing, it requires continued growth, or change, for the sake of well-being, or progress. In II 5 he said that nature or man purges simple bodies, for the sake of their health or well-being, and thus implied that early men are healthy because they lack “much superfluous matter.” Now in III 1, while they are said to have some goodness which becomes corrupt in later men, the cure is not purges but changes (alterazioni) for the better which have the happy ambivalence of return¬ ing toward the beginning and maintaining one’s acquisitions. Perhaps this am¬ bivalence is what is meant by “mixed” body, a mixture of natural limitation and human changes for the better, with an implied power of overcoming natural limitation in the human faculty of mixing. Or, since mixed bodies remain mixed, one may suggest more prudently that Machiavelli implies progress to¬ ward overcoming natural limitation, thus returning toward the beginning na¬ ture provides while making it one’s own, but without conquering the necessity that makes men operate well. Machiavelli says that mixed bodies, if not re¬ newed, “do not last”; if they are renewed, will they last “for a long time” (the chapter title) beyond their ordained life-span? Speaking first of republics, Machiavelli says that this returning toward the beginning is done either through extrinsic accident or through intrinsic pru¬ dence. It would be more orderly to make this distinction in regard to all mixed bodies before beginning with republics, but by seeming to confine it to repub¬ lics he can say and yet avoid the responsibility of saying that the most striking display of human prudence in returning toward the beginning can be found in the behavior of sects, especially “our religion.” At this point he offers the Roman republic as the example of renewal through extrinsic accident, the same accident he had recently said (II 29) was planned by Fortune. It was necessary that Rome be taken by the French if she was to be born again and in being born again take on new life and new virtue, and resume the observance of religion and justice. Livy’s history shows that in taking out their army against the French and in creating tribunes with consular powers the Romans did not observe any religious ceremony; and likewise not only did they not punish the three Fabii who contravened the law’ of nations when they fought the French, but they made them tribunes (II 28). These errors, and the undervaluing of “other good constitutions” reasonable and necessary for maintaining free life, were the result of gradual corruption, it now appears, rather than singular failures caused by “blinded spirits.” Then this external blow came in order that “all the orders” of the city be revived and the people be shown the necessity not only of maintain¬ ing religion and justice but also of esteeming its good citizens and valuing their virtue more than their comforts (commodi). Fsteeming good citizens is not included in observing religion and justice. In fact, immediately after the taking of Rome, the Romans renewed “all the orders

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of their ancient religion” (not “all their orders” simply); they punished the Fabii and they so esteemed the virtue and goodness of Camillus that the Senate and others put aside all envy and placed all the weight of the republic on him. The people set aside their comforts and the Senate its envy in order to give entire responsibility to Camillus: esteeming him was apparently sufficient without or without otherwise observing religion and justice, which at times could be con¬ sidered rather as comforts of the people than as necessities of free government. We recall that the Senate confided in the goodness and religion of the people in I 55 on very inadequate evidence, but perhaps it was meant that the Senate confided in the propensity of the people to confide in such as Camillus. It is therefore necessary, “as was said” (again it was not), that men living together in any order often “examine themselves” either through these extrinsic accidents or through intrinsic ones. We had not been told that returning tow ard the beginning w as a kind of self-examination or confession and that “intrinsic prudence” is an “intrinsic accident.” One might as w ell suppose that an “extrin¬ sic' accident” could be an instance of “extrinsic prudence” planned by Fortune or by man, for one man’s accidents are another’s prudence.3 Intrinsic accidents, Machiavelli says, must arise (nasca) either from a “law ” that often review s the conduct of men in that body or indeed from a “good man” born (nasca) among them who w ith examples and virtuous works achieves the same effect as the “order.” I he alternative is restated: the effect comes about either by virtue of a man or by virtue of an order. In the Roman republic the orders that returned it to its beginning were the tribunes, the censors, and other laws that opposed the ambition anti insolence of men. But they have to be “brought to life” by the virtue of “one citizen” who “spiritedly” strives to execute them against the power of those w ho transgress them. “One man” as opposed to an order be-^ comes, in Machiavelli’s quiet substitution, “one citizen” bringing life to orders w ith spirited executions. Machiavelli gives seven notable examples of such “executions”: the death of the sons of Brutus, the death of the “ten citizens” (actually the decemvirs w ere, less notably, not killed; see I 46), the death of Melius the grain-dealer, all before the taking of Rome;4 and after that event, the death of Manlius Capitolinus, the death of the son of Manlius Torquatus, the execution of Papirius Cursor against Fabius, the accusation of the Scipios (compare I 29, w here this is treated as an instance of ingratitude). Because these things were “excessive and notable,” every time they occurred they drew men back tow ard the mark (segno). Law s and_orders must refer back to the beginnings of a state, not to its end. Yet it w as not the laws and orders of Rome that drew it back tow ard the beginning, but these notable executions carried out by one citizen. Nor was it the taking of Rome that had this effect but the series of executions before and alter that event w hich, Machiavelli specifies, should continue at intervals of ten years so as to 3. S. p. 219; Lefort, p. 600. 4. NM disregards Livy, III 58. 9.

302 III 1

, V.-k

viL*-

1

BOOK III

I draw the punishment back to men’s memory and renew the fear in their spirits (animi). Such is the desired self-examination—a sensational punishment that fills men’s spirits with the fear they felt at the beginning of the state when they were unprotected. Beholding this punishment, they are brought baek to the “mark” or the “sign.” Maehiavelli’s use of “sign,” “example,” and “spirit” in this vicinity brings to mind the two chapters on theology, I 56 and II 29. As the former postulated compassionate intelligences that leave signs for human beings and the latter attributed foreign invasion to punishment by Fortune, here they are combined in an execution by one citizen that both punishes and renews. The execution, is, or should be, managed by his prudence, but he must manage it to appear as a sign of the terror from w hich he or the government protects the people. An “intrinsic accident” does the work of prudence but not w ith a quiet habit that would make men complacent, lazy, and tumultuous; it gives them a tw inge of fear that reminds them of the need for government, divine or human. Executions every ten years hold the offenders dow n to a number that can be punished w ithout danger, a conclusion Machiavelli secures by recounting w hat

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A °c.

“those w ho governed the state of Florence from 1434 to 1494 used to say.” They said it was necessary to “retake the state every five years”; otherwise it was difficult to maintain it. By this they meant it w as necessary to put that terror and fear in men which they had put when, first taking the state, they had “beaten” those who, according to that “way of living,” had done w rong. We recall nature’s battering of men in II 5, but now the beating is done by men (compare II 2). When the memory of such beating is extinguished, men make bold to try “new things” and to speak evil; and therefore it is necessary to return the state toward Ire beginnings This is a dramatized view of the Medici’s use of a traditional Florentine institution for constitutional revision, the Balia, to justify its departures and frighten its opponents.5 Machiavelli indicant that although executions enforce law s, their true purpose is political in maintaining a certain government and its “w ay of life,” and the means is sensaTionaTnisplay rather than dignified legality. Since laws are made to maintaiiTthtr^rtuTfhey are revived to the same end, and they keep men good as those w ho govern that state understood good, renew ing their rule and not generating “newr things” or prompting evil speech beyond their control. Renew al by virtue of a law; is renewal by virtue of men ordering accidents to maintain their rule, behind the laws rather than under them. Yet if one must admit the political character of law , it is equally notable that political renewal is directed to w hat might seem to be non-partisan executions of the criminal law. That laws are relative to the regime is a prominent teaching of classical political science, but the renewal of government from sensational executions must come from Maehiavelli’s politicized Christianity, whose basis is 5. Nicolai Rubenstein, The Government of Florence under the Medici, 14-34 to 1494 (Oxford, 1966), p. 79.

THE FOUNDER-CAPTAIN

III 1

TC ^c*

v someone else. “And if the above-mentioned executions, together w ith these examples” had been (lone at least every ten years, “it follow s ot necessity” that Rome would never have been corrupt. Never corrupt! This amazing possibility calls out from its inconspicuous location. For after the last of the five, Marcus Regulus, only the two Catos follow ed as similar examples, and they were too far from him and too far from each other. Perhaps they would have succeeded had they been men of rare brain (I 55; see I 17, 18); so Maehiavelli may be referring to the facts that the two Catos were accusers and that the “last Cato” w as unable to make the citizens (distinguished from these virtuous executives) become better “with his example” even though he killed himself. Adding all together as suggested, w e have fourteen Romans w ho com¬ bine being sacrificed, sacrificing, and accusing, but no one man of virtue, not even Camillus,6 who combined all three. We are now ready to consider sects, in which renew als can be seen to be necessary by the example of our religion. The Roman religion was discussed as a part of the Roman republic, but our religion is more than this. It is a sect comparable to a republic, and Maehiavelli has indeed already called it the “Christian republic” (I 12). If our religion had not been draw n back toward its beginning by St. Francis and St. Dominic, he pronounces, it would have been altogether extinct. It already w as extinct in the minds (mente) of men w hen they w ith their poverty and w ith the example of Christ’s life revived it in “new orders.” The Romans had renew ed all the orders of their ancient religion after the taking of Rome, but our religion was renew ed w ith new orders; or should w e say that Maehiavelli saves his disclosure that all renewal requires new orders for his discussion of the Christian sect? It w as clearer than light that mixed bodies do not last if they are not renewed; they may be renewed by a law or an order or by a man, in either case by a sensational execution that revives in men their fear of punishment. a , J

-—-^’ .

6. D. I 29, 55; Camillus was not an accuser. “Execute” occurs eight times in III 1, “example” eight times, and “beginning” ten times.

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The relation between such fear and new orders is indicated in Machiavelli’s superb comment on the effect of the Franciscan and Dominican reforms. The new orders were so powerful, he says, that they were the “cause that the dishonesty of the prelates and heads of the religion did not ruin it, for living still in poverty and having such credit with peoples in confessions and sermons, they gave them to understand that it is evil to speak evil of evil and that it is well to live in submission to them, and if they make errors to leave them to be punished by God: and so they do the worst they can, because they do not fear that punishment they do not see and do not believe in. This renovation, therefore, has maintained and maintains this religion.” Clearly the renovation of this religion did no more than revive its corruption, a judgment Machiavelli conveys by changing the antecedent of the pronoun “they” in mid-sentence from re¬ formers to reformed. Christianity’s long survival despite its corruption has sometimes been taken as a sign of divine favor by those who are not serious either about its corruption or its favor. Machiavelli has a different explanation. The dishonesty of the priests does not ruin Christianity because peoples believe in punishments they do not see, but since priests do not, the religion remains corrupt. bfTFrancis and St. Dominic imitated the life of Christ in its sacrifice so far as they could by living a life of poverty, but they could not imitate the execution in which it culminated; so they recalled the words of Christ more than his sacrifice, stressed love rather than fear, and in consequence did not truly return Christianity toward its beginning. Returning toward the beginning requires new' orders, for the begin¬ ning is not old but new; but the purpose of the new is to inspire fear. If one could count on Providence, it would not be necessary to return “often” toward one’s beginnings. Machiavelli’s program comprises the two Romes—a revival of ancient Rome and an adaptation of modern Rome—to bring orders that are new altogether and that therefore must be brought by war (II 33). As regards the adaptation of modern Rome, w e will suppose that the taking of Rome by the French refers, among other things, to the attempted reform of Christianity by philosophical sects comparable to the Franciscans and the Dominicans. They too did not succeed in returning it toward the beginning. The remaining topic is the renewal of kingdoms, which is used to introduce the thought, in regard to France, that laws can be impressively executed by parliaments not only against the nobility but even against kings themselves. One may remember the statement in I 16 that the kingdom of France, restrained by laws, offers security for both king and people, w ithout remarking on the nobil¬ ity. The difference may be explained by the fact that the remark in this chapter occurs after the discussion of the Christian sect, so that one is required to compare the punished French nobility w ith the unpunished Christian prelates and tempted to compare their kings in this regard. It is important here as in the following chapters to be aw are that Christendom can be considered a kingdom

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as well as a republic. We will suggest that Machiavelli is willing to revive the cause of conciliarism in the Church, on condition that it be extended and radicalized. He concludes that there is nothing more necessary in common life {uno vivere commune), w hether sect, kingdom, or republic, than to restore the reputation jt had~aFlts beginnings and to contrive that this effect be accom plashed l)y good orders and good men, and not by an “extrinsic force/1 I ntrinsic force reminds us of the “outside force” for relying on which the ancient Tuscans and modern governments had been blamed (I 7); now it is clear that ancient Rome suffered as well, or indeed above all others, from this defect. Nonethe¬ less, the “actions of particular men,” w hich made Rome great anti produced many good effects in that city, can be studied, we suppose, to show how to avoid reliance on an extrinsic force or to generate a philosophy that is not extrinsic to man. To reproduce the reputation of new orders w hile avoiding reliance on an extrinsic force must be the task of one particular man (Machiavelli does not say “private” man) w ho, how ever, may learn from some things that the kings did for their private benefit. Machiavelli w ill begin w ith Brutus, “father of Roman liberty” (111 2, 3), and then speculate on the private calculations of the Iarquins (111 4, 5). Thus he goes contrary to Livy’s narrative order back toward Rome’s beginning to make his own beginning not with Romulus but with the

III 2

Iarquins. In the next chapter w e are immediately introduced to the fraud (though not so called) of the father of Roman liberty, just as in 1 9 we were immediately introduced to the crime of the founder of Rome. Machiavelli composes a w arm encomium to it, first an absolute superlative in the chapter heading: “It is very wise to simulate madness at the right time.” Then he gives a relative superlative: “There has never been anyone so prudent nor so much esteemed w ise for any remarkable operation of his as Junius Brutus deserves to be considered tor his simulation of stupidity.” Stupidity (stultizia) would seem to be madness (pazzia) w ithout frenzy, as opposed to the frantic madness of il matto, which is recom¬ mended at the end of the chapter. Advertising and so exposing Brutus’ simulation, Machiavelli intimates that acquiring a reputation for w isdom can be as w ise as simulating stupidity; but would Brutus w ish his reputation to be based above everything on simulating stupidity? His interest and Machiavelli’s do not seem the same, despite Machiavelli’s defense of him against the allegedly inadequate analysis ot Livy. Machiavelli takes advantage of Livy’s ambiguity as to whether Brutus had a private or a public motive for simulating stupidity.7 According to him, Livy gave only one “cause” for it, the desire to live securely and to keep his pat¬ rimony. Machiavelli says that considering Brutus’ “mode of proceeding,” one can believe that he also wished to be less observed and to have more opportunity 7. Livy, I 56. 8, 59. 2, 8; II 1. 3.

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for oppressing the kings and liberating his fatherland. One does not have to believe, or one must not believe, that he merely wished to rise from low to high fortune (II 13, twenty-two ehapters before). As evidenee for this hidden public motive Machiavelli cites first Brutus’ behavior at the interpretation of the oracle of Apollo, when he pretended to fall in order to kiss the earth, judging that he would have the gods favorable to his thoughts as a result of this action. It is wisdom to have the gods favorable to one’s thoughts rather than the reverse, but is it necessarily public spirited? According to Livy, the oracle had promised the “highest power in Rome” to the first of a group of young men, including Brutus, who would kiss his mother. Brutus decided that his mother was the earth (compare Antaeus, II 12), and performed this interesting devotion as Machiavelli relates, secretly from his companions. At first sight, however, kissing the earth as his mother could signify an attachment to his patrimonio as well as to his patria, and if to the latter, a strong desire to “be alone” is evident. Second, Machiavelli cites Brutus’ domestic action beside the dead Lucretia, when among her father and her husband and other relatives, he w as the first to draw the knife from her wound and to make those present swear that henceforth they would never allow' anyone to rule as king in Rome. Livy’s account has Brutus swear by himself that he w ill punish Tarquinius Superbus and that he w ill not allow’ anyone to reign over Rome,8 and even Machiavelli’s version does not require a public motive. It does suggest that a man who defends his fatherland must step ahead of fathers to defend his cause while standing for their rights. Machiavelli says that Brutus hid his wisdom and that he had a public motive hidden, at least, from Livy; but he does not link the hidden wisdom to the hidden public motive by a necessary connection. This he will presently do for those whom he urges to imitate Brutus. From Brutus’ example, Machiavelli says, all those discontented with a “prince” have something to learn. They should first measure and weigh their forces, and if these are so powerful that they can reveal themselves as his enemies and make open w ar (II 32) on him, they should follow this w ay as less dangerous and more honorable.9 If their forces are not sufficient for open war, they should seek w ith every art to make themselves his friends, follow his pleasures, and take delight in all things they see delighting him. T his “domestic¬ ity” (see 1121) allow s you first to live securely and without accepting any risk to 8. Livy, I 59. 1. 9. Leslie J. Walker, S. J.’s appreciation of this passage deserves quotation in full as an illustration of the wickedness of innocence: “Note that M. prefers conduct which is open and above board to subterfuge, provided it is possible by such conduct to attain the good end one has in view; i.e., wherever practicable, not only should the end be good, but also the means”; W., I 2, 112; II 151 — 152. As Macaulay said in excuse of Lord Cecil: he “never put to the rack any person from whom it did not seem probable that useful information might be derived”; Critical and Historical Essays, 10 vols. New York, n.d., Ill, 76.

THE FOUNDER-CAPTAIN

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m

enjoy good fortune with the prince; and it furnishes you every opportunity to satisfy your intention (animo). It does not, however, ensure that your intention will be to defend your patria in addition to your patrimonio. Machiavelli reports that some say one should not stay so close to princes that you are involved in their fall, nor so far that you cannot leap over their ruin in time. Such a “middle way” would be the truest if one could keep to it, but one cannot; “I believe” it is impossible, and it is necessary to choose either to keep aw ay or to cleave to them. 'Then, as in his argument against another middle w ay in II 23, he turns to oppose one of the extremes in addressing a “man w ho is notable for his quality.” Such a man lives in continuous danger, for it is not enough to say: “I do not care for anything; 1 desire neither honor nor profit; I w ish to live quietly and w ithout trouble!” These excuses w ill be heard but not accepted, nor can “men who have quality” choose to stay quiet even if they have chosen it truly and w ithout any ambition, for they w ill not be believed. They must play the fool (fare il pazzo) like Brutus, and make themselves very much mad (matto), “praising, speaking, seeing, and doing things against your inten¬ tion \animo\ to please the prince.” In 141 Appius w as praised for simulating to be a popular man; now Brutus is praised for pretending to be a friend of the prince. Could the two things be the same when the people is a prince (I 58)? W e observe that imitating Brutus has been assimilated to imitating the prince, perhaps the very one whom Brutus overthrew but not necessarily a prince w ith w hom one is discontented, because if one is not “friendly,” discontent w ill be assumed. The enthusiastic friendli¬ ness of the plotting liberator is very different from the simulated stupidity of Brutus, which indeed bears some resemblance to the untenable middle way of the man of quality who would like to be left alone. W hat chiefly distinguish this man from Brutus are the hidden public motive anti ambition that Machiavelli attributes to the latter, so much so that w hereas you can satisfy your animo if you are like Brutus, you must work against it if you are the “man < >f quality.” Who is that man? The man of quality is not a saint, unless it could be said by some stretch of imagination that a saint is one w ho could strive to please his prince. But in Plato’s Gorgias there is an interesting and helpful parallel to Machiavelli’s advice to this man in Socrates’ advice, spoken to Callicles, on how to avoid suffering w rong. The advice describes the conduct of a man living in a city under an uneducated tyrant, far better a man than the tyrant, who to avoid suffering wrong at his hands, makes himself friendly w ith him, adopting the same temper, and blaming and praising the same things. In comparison with Machiavelli’s program for the man of quality, Socrates’ “better” man does not see as the prince or tyrant does, for if we assume the better man to be a philosopher, he reserves for nonpolitical use the faculty that is the basis of the philosophic life by which he “sees” the invisible things that are above cities, the

'I

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ideas.10 But in Machiavelli’s thought the faculty of sight is needed in politics to repel the influence of those w ho do not believe in the punishment they do not see (III 1) but are able to persuade others to believe they speak with God without seeing anything extraordinary (I 11). He asks the man of quality who would much rather remain aloof from politics, like Plato’s philosopher, to play the fool and be friendly to the ruler or tyrant. Philosophers, however, have never been in need of this advice so far as it is intended to protect them in a life of “continual danger.” “Free writers” have known how7 to blame Caesar safely by indirection (I 10), and Machiavelli notes in the Dedicatory Letter that it is the common practice of writers to address their works to some prince, a practice which he followed in The Prince and which he modifies in this work so far as to address it to several potential princes. But in advising the man of quality, whom we identify as the philosopher, to see as the prince sees, he is asking the philosopher to enter politics, and to do so without the Socratic reservation in favor of his own superior life. His purpose, then, is not merely self-protection; it is a revolu¬ tion in politics to establish a regime not of philosophers but of virtuous princes secure from cyclical corruption. What is remarkable in this chapter is not Machiavelli’s advice to the man of quality to play the fool, but his suggestion to do so by kissing the earth. This act signifies a fundamental change of allegiance from the realm of contemplation to the political world, and reveals the necessary connection between wisdom and public motive for which we looked in vain in the nonphilosophic Brutus. The hidden public motive of the philosopher is Machiavellian in a noble sense, which is intended to direct and to justify all the hidden private motives of politicians vulgarly called Machiavellian. What the philosopher sees when he sees as the prince sees is shown in the next chapter. What he does not see on his own is any support for the philosophic life by itself, for when men return toward their beginnings (III 1), all they find is fearful and their only comfort is of human origin and political. Machiavelli ends by saying that having spoken of Brutus’ prudence in “recov¬ ering” the liberty of Rome, we will now7 speak of his severity in maintaining it. It makes little sense to say that the father of Roman liberty (III 1) “recovered” that liberty unless Machiavelli has conflated Brutus’ achievement w ith the task of his imitator today. But the confusion between recovering and founding lib¬ erty can remind us that founding a free state requires a return toward the beginning which any state must have in applied fear or severity. If playing the fool is “prudence,” we may suppose that severity is akin to “open war” by someone who has measured his forces w ell, hence that Brutus’ republican sever¬ ity to his sons is like Romulus’ tyrannical “homicide” of his brother. Having excused the latter in the name of the common good, Machiavelli could hardly

10. Gorgias 510b-c; Republic 492b-c, 500c. My thanks to Tarcov on this point. S. pp. 168, 203, 275, 340nl52. Pierre Manent, Naissances de la politique moderne (Paris, 1977), pp. 20-21.

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endorse the former as just punishment for treason, as did Livy.11 His willing¬ ness to absolve an unjust fratricide makes it necessary for him to neglect the justice of Brutus’ terrible action, and merely to call it “severity,” thus transform¬ ing an occasion of grandeur and tragedy into a useful instance of successful calculation. “That it is necessary, in order to maintain a newly acquired liberty, to kill the sons of Brutus” is a universal lesson draw n from what Livy presents as Brutus’ great and singular misfortune. In accordance with the advice given at the end of III 2, the following chapter enables us to “see” as the prince sees, but since Brutus is now the prince, w e must learn to imitate his severity in power as w ell as his simulation on the w ay to power. We can learn to combine these opposite virtues by learning to combine freedom and tyranny, as earlier (I 9, 18) we learned to combine the common good and to be alone. Brutus’ severity w as not less necessary than useful for maintaining in Rome the liberty that he had acquired there; for as liberty is more liberty to rule than liberty to live in security (I 16), the father of Roman liberty has more liberty than the Romans. It is a rare example in all memories of things, Machiavelli says in solemn description of his severity, “to see the father sit on the tribunal” and not only condemn his ow n sons to death but to be present at their death. W e remark that he thus exceeds his Christian counterpart in both rarity and sever¬ ity. Those who “read ancient things” w ill alw ays know that after a “change of state,” whether from republic to tyranny or from tyranny to republic, a “memorable execution against the enemies of present conditions” is necessary. To see as a prince is to consider the founding of liberty as a “change of state” no different from the change that destroys liberty in requiring a memorable execu¬ tion against its enemies, w ho after the change become “enemies of the present conditions.” The “prince”—the principle of things—is not favorable to liberty. In I 16 a new ly founded free state in contrast w ith a new prince was said to have partisan enemies and not partisan friends, but the remedy implied here is the use of a mode common to republics and tyrannies and borrow ed from the latter. The execution must be memorable, for w hich it need not be just, and it can anticipate the conspiracy of the sons of Brutus, mentioned in 116 but not here, w ith a conspiracy of its own. An execution is memorable by being unex¬ pected and abrupt, like a sacrifice of one’s own sons, or, if this is too exciting, the killing of someone else’s sons, Brutus’ sons. “W hoever seizes a tyranny and does not kill Brutus, and whoever makes a state free and does not kill Brutus’ sons, maintains himself a short time.” W hatever the difference between a tyranny and a free state, Machiavelli here makes it seem important chiefly to Brutus and his sons. He refers to his discussion of that matter above (I 16) and turns to a “memorable example” from “our days and in our fatherland,” the example of Piero Soderini. Machiavelli asks his reader to see together with him 11. Livy, II 5. 7-8. Lefort, p. 610.

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as he did when he advised the prinee of a free state: seeing with the prince is seeing with Maehiavelli. As opposed to an execution of memorable severity we see a man who believed he could overcome with patience and goodness the appetite in the sons of Brutus for returning under “another government,” and he w as deceived. Although he recognized the necessity of “killing the Medici,” and had the opportunity for it, nonetheless he never made up his mind (animo) to do so. For besides believing in the power of patience and goodness to overcome bad humors, and of rewards to dissipate hostility, he judged that to attack his opponents he would have to “seize extraordinary authority” and “rupture civil equality with laws.” These measures would not be used tyrannically by him, but the “universality” would be so alarmed by them that after his death they would never consent to a gonfalonier for life, an institution he judged it well to strengthen and maintain. It is a familiar picture of the honest man w ho cannot bring himself to violate law s, or change them, for his honest purposes because the change might give opportunity to dishonest men—as if the law s he supported, especially his fa¬ vorite institution (for everyone has his favorite) could not be used tyrannically by the dishonest men w hom his honesty could not overcome. Piero had pre¬ viously been advised (I 52, forty-four chapters earlier) to become a tyrant in order to forestall the tyranny of the Medici; now he is urged to kill them as the sons of Brutus in order to maintain a free state—or should he kill them to maintain the tyranny he would have seized had he followed the first advice? H ow much did Piero care about the “order” of gonfalonier for life after his own death? Readers of ancient books w ill discover examples of memorable executions, but the memorable example of our time and place is that of misplaced trust in patience and goodness, rew ards, and life after death. Maehiavelli does not op¬ pose these characteristically modern errors directly, however. Instead, while admitting that Piero s scruple was wise and good, he asserts as it seems sententiously that one should never allow an evil to run on for the sake of a good if that good can easily be crushed by that evil. Such high language raises the thought above the circumstances of Piero to comprehend any case of submission to evil in defense of a good, including that of the man of quality who w ishes to live a life of retirement (III 2). Piero should have believed, Maehiavelli continues, that having to judge his works and his intention by the outcome (fine), if fortune and life should be w ith him he could assure everyone that w hat he had done was for the safety of his fatherland and not for his own ambition; and he could regulate things in such a w ay that his successor could not do for evil w hat he had done for good. To judge by the outcome is possible, we see, even when the successful outcome is not visible; it is to judge by w hat would have resulted from prudence accompanied by (not necessarily with the aid of) fortune. So judging, Piero should have been reassured that he could have seized extraordinary authority

III 3

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and yet explained or explained away his ambition, and that such authority could have been “regulated” to prevent its being used tyrannically by others later. But again the language has wider application to the man of quality who lacks ambi¬ tion and seeks retirement. For Machiavelli answers the philosopher’s objections to ruling, apart from the attractions of philosophy, in these two reassurances, and thus show s the superiority of his discoveries to classical political science. The philosopher’s rhetoric can protect the philosopher not only in a life devoted to philosophy, as Socrates succeeded in doing under favorable circumstances until age seventy, but also w hen he enters politics, w hich Socrates denied it could have done had he lived a public life and acted as a good man.12 Machiavelli has show n that the philosopher, however universal his outlook and lofty his concern, shares his fatherland with nonphilosophic men because that fatherland must be understood as this world, the home and thus the condi¬ tion of every true fatherland. Philosophers and political men must defend it against a common enemy that renders virtue inoperative and divides loyalty betw een the illusory heavenly fatherland anti the true earthly one. Moreover, in saying that Piero should have believed he could solve the problem of succession, Machiavelli implies that the philosopher should believe he can intervene in politics without fear that his intervention could be misused by nonphilosophic men. He implies, indeed, that one should believe the cycle of regimes can be overcome, lor it can be overcome it the good men of a regime are not succeeded by evil men, or as is indicated, if it does not matter whether the successors are angels or devils. Institutional political science—that political science characteris¬ tic of modern times, which relies on institutions rather than virtue—is the cure for cyclical corruption. This corruption impelled philosophers to despair of the good they might do in politics, believing that their extraordinary authority was bound to be an ill example to their successors (I 34), and in general that good regimes are succeeded by bad. It now appears that Machiavelli’s institutional political science, at least, would allow the “order” of gonfalonier lor life, for which Piero submitted to the evils of his ow n expulsion from that office and of its curtailment in his ow n example, as opposed to the shorter term required or recommended earlier (I 34, 35, 40, 49). W e must not forget that an argument against submission to evil has an obvious bearing against Christianity, but the argument appears as a spur to the spirit of Piero Soderini, and as an aid to his prudence against arguments of the men of quality. It seems to suggest to philosophers that their disdain for this world has fostered the pretended disdain of the prelates, so that the evils of the present religion are the effectual truth not merely of saintly withdrawal but also of philosophic disdain.

Machiavelli repeats that Piero Soderini w as deceived in his first opinion, not knowing that malignity is not tamed by time nor placated by any gift. His mistake w as after all a matter of opinion, a lack of prudence responsible for a 12. Plato, Apology of Socrates 32 e.

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lack of spirit; Machiavelli’s excuse for Piero, which depended on a separation betw een spirit and prudence, is w ithdrawn. If malignity is not diminished by patience or rewards, it may yet be “regulated” by prudence Piero does not possess. Piero, for not knowing how to “resemble” (somigliare) Brutus, lost his office and his reputation together with his fatherland. To resemble Brutus one must imitate his simulated stupidity and more, because one must share his political concern; and thus in politics, one must also imitate his severity in memorable executions. Imitating both his self-protection and his public concern requires that one resemble him altogether and as a whole, and to conspire against the prince by seeing as the prince sees. To resemble Brutus one must see the tyrant in him, the founder or savior of a free state. That is w hy Machiavelli slides easily, though contrary to the order of Livy’s narrative, from “saving” a free state to “saving” a kingdom, the topic to be discussed in the following chapter. “Saving” a regime is “maintaining” it by “regaining” it. The alternative betw een maintaining and regaining set forth at the end of III 2 is combined in saving, and yet another political truth is exemplified in Christian doctrine and practice. In the following chapter the promised salvation of a kingdom is discussed under a commonplace of tyranny: “A prince does not live securely in a princi¬ pality while those live who have been despoiled of it.” We are rescued from disappointment w ith the well-learned lesson that kingdom is tyranny by the examples and by a sudden broadening of the argument in the middle of the chapter. The examples are Tarquinius Priscus and his successor Servius Tullius. Machiavelli says that the death of the former “caused by the sons of Ancus” and and the death of the latter caused by Tarquinius Superbus show how difficult it is, and how dangerous, to despoil “one” of a kingdom and to leave him alive, even though one attempts to win him over with compensation (con merito). Only “one,” for example only one son, not several or many, can be despoiled of a kingdom, though several or many could think themselves entitled to it, and in this sense despoiled of it. Tarquinius Priscus w as deceived because it appeared to him he possessed that kingdom “juridically,” it having been given to him by the people and confirmed by the Senate; nor did he believe that there would be so much anger in Ancus’ sons that they would not be content with w hat con¬ tented all Rome. With these two additions to Livy’s history Machiavelli covers the fact he has subtracted that in securing the kingdom Tarquinius had to overcome his being a foreigner. For this reason he w as forced to appeal to the people, and after success in his appeal, he created a hundred more senators to confirm his rule “juridically.”13 Since “all Rome” was content with a foreigner w ho in a sense had despoiled them of a kingdom, w hy were not the sons of Ancus? It is easier to put across a foreigner to the people than a legitimate king 13. Livy, I 35. 2-6.

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to a rival prince; but it may be possible to gain the second trick together with the first. Servius Tullius deceived himself in believing that he could “w ith new com¬ pensations” win over the sons of Tarquinius. These “sons” were identified just above as Tarquinius Superbus alone. Now Machiavelli draws a lesson from each example: from the first, the warning of the chapter heading addressed to “every prince”; and from the second, a notice addressed to “every power” (potente)—thus marking the extent of the term “prince”—that old injuries are never cancelled w ith new benefits (beneficii). He gave the second admonition also at the end of the seventh chapter of 7'he Prince w hen criticizing Cesare Borgia for creating a man whom he had injured, “San Pietro ad Vincula” (Julius II), pope.14 In this instance another similar benefice is in question, for the prince must bear in mind that those w hom he had despoiled of a principality include not only the sons of the king from w hom he may have usurped the throne but above all others his ow n sons or son. “To kill Brutus’ sons” returns from the third person to the second when one sees that it recommends not only a memorable execution against favoritism (1 16) or in display of severity (III 3) but also a simple elimination of your rivals, especially your closest rivals. Old injuries are never cancelled with new benefits, Machiavelli says, so much the less insofar as the new benefit is less than the injury w as. But if the injury w as to be occupying the place of prince or king, how could the compensation for someone who wants to be king not be less than the injury? A prince cannot defend himself against ingratitude (I 29). The prince must take care not only of those whom he has despoiled of a kingdom but of all “old injuries,” a broader description. W e are informed that the “appetite for ruling” enters the breasts of those to whom the kingdom does not belong as w ell as those to whom it does. Machiavelli illustrates this assertion w ith the behavior of a woman, the w ife of Tarquinius Superbus, daughter of Servius, and herself the “new benefit” aw arded to Tarquinius by Servius. She, moved by this fury (rabbia) “against all paternal piety” urged her husband to take aw ay the life and the kingdom of her father: so much did she esteem being queen rather than daughter of a king. It did not matter that she had not been injured or despoiled because her appetite for ruling did the work of resentment; her “injury” consisted in being ruled or in not ruling. In this sense the entire class of natural princes or even all human beings are rebellious sons who resent being ruled and w aiting to rule. But clearly a prince who is a father must w atch out for his daughter w ho washes to be queen as w ell as for his son or son-in-law who wishes to be king. We shall guess, and excuse ourselves from proving, that this daughter stands for the Church—and the Machiavellian philosopher. In conclusion, Machiavelli censures Tarquinius Priscus and Servius Tullius for not knowing how to secure themselves against those from whom they had 14. Cf. Livy, 1 42. 2, where it is said on the contrary that Servius Tullius’ “human prudence” did not overcome the “necessity of fate.”

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“usurped” the kingdom, and promises to discourse on Tarquinius Superbus, w ho lost his kingdom for not observing the “orders of the ancient kings.” But the meaning of usurpation has been diminished by the introduction of appetite for ruling w hich know s no legitimacy, and killing the sons of Brutus has become the recipe for maintaining a kingdom or tyranny as well as a republic. Which are the “ancient kings,” by the way: the two discussed here or the four discussed in I 19? Or are the “orders of the ancient kings” the chaotic first beginnings tow ard which men must be returned occasionally by prudent government? Machiavelli now devotes a ehapter of moral, though unangry, discourse to the Roman tyrant Tarquinius Superbus, the prince whom Brutus studied to lull, please, and overthrow . Whereas Livy condemned the crimes by w hich he gained and kept his rule in contrast to the “just and legitimate reign” of his predecessor Servius Tullius,15 Machiavelli discusses his actions under the title “w hat causes the loss of a kingdom to a king w ho had inherited it,” thus appointing Servius the usurper and Tarquinius the inheritor. As such, Tar¬ quinius, according to Machiavelli, was careless rather than criminal, and de¬ serves not so much condemnation as pity in his self-condemnation, being a man deprived of his kingship w ho now7 sees how easily he could have avoided the mistakes that caused him to lose it. To support this version of events Machiavelli offers w ith some caution but w ithout a sign of reluctance the counsel w hich would “easily” have saved Tarquinius’ kingdom for him. We are not surprised that having ignored the rape of Virginia in his account of the Decemvirate (I 40), he now denies the importance of the rape of Lucretia; but his counsel suggests the use of that “accident” in the spirit of Brutus and to a contrary result. The chapter begins with an explanation of w hat it means to inherit a king¬ dom. “ Tarquinius Superbus having killed Servius Tullius, who left no heirs, he came into possession of the kingdom securely, since he did not have to fear those things w hich had harmed his predecessors.” Admittedly his w ay of seizing the kingdom was “extraordinary and odious,” so that it could not be described as “juridical” (III 4), but he came into possession “securely” and his troubles developed in attempting to maintain that secure possession. He offended both the Senate and the people by failing to observe the “ancient orders of the other kings” and so eventually lost his kingdom. Machiavelli does not mention that he ruled for twenty-five years. It seems that the juridical deportment which was not enough to save Tarquinius Priscus—his kingship having been given by the people and confirmed by the Senate—would have saved his son, but perhaps only after the extraordinary and odious manner of his inheritance. What is juridical alw ays stands in need of the nonjuridical for the sake of security. We note the difference betw een not observing the “orders of the ancient kings” (III 4, end) and not observing the “ancient orders of the other kings,” for Machiavelli moves back in time to assume the viewpoint of an ancient king who violated the ancient orders, and wishes us to follow him. 15. Livy, I 48. 8-9.

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Tarquinius was driven out, then, not because his son Sextus raped Lueretia but because he broke the law s of the kingdom and governed “tyrannically.” He took all authority from the Senate and collected it in himself, and things that used to be done to the satisfaction of the Roman Senate in public places he had transferred to his palace w ith the onus anti the envy his own. In a brief time he despoiled Rome of all that liberty which it had maintained under the other kings, according to Machiavelli in I 9 (see I 16, 17; II 2) not a little. Nor w as it enough for him to make “the Fathers” (for so the Senate is here designated, as in I 8, 49) his enemies; he also excited the plebs against him for having used it in mechanical tasks altogether foreign to those to w hich it w as accustomed under his predecessors.16 Thus he filled Rome w ith “cruel and proud examples” and disposed the spirits of all the Romans to rebellion, w henever there would be occasion for it; so if the accident to Lueretia had not come along, the next one would have had the same effect. For if Tarquinius had lived like the other kings, and his son Sextus had committed that “error” (compare the “injury” to Pausanias in II 28), Brutus and Collatinus (Lucrctia’s father) would have ap¬ pealed to Tarquinius for vengeance against Sextus, not to the Roman people. In the superior tone of a new spaper editorial in our day anti of a preacher in his, Machiavelli now proceeds to lament, for the remainder of the chapter, the conduct of the foolish and unfortunate prince who fails to follow the path of constitutional corrcctitude. Princes should know, he says, that they begin to lose their power at the hour when they begin to break the law s and those ancient w ays and customs under which men have lived for a long time. And if after¬ ward, when deprived (privati) of their pow er, they ever become so prudent as to know how easily principalities are held by those who know how to advise themselves wisely, their loss would be so much the more and they would condemn themselves to a greater punishment than they would have had from others. For it is much easier to be loved by the good than by the bad, and to obey the laws than to w ish to rule over them. True, it is much easier, but is it enough? Was it enough for Lueretia? In this commending of love anti counsel to observe the ancient orders, where is recognition of the need to renew and to return toward the beginning with examples that are memorable because they are fearful? We may answ er this question by returning to Machiavelli’s proposed man¬ agement of Lucretia’s accident. He said that if Tarquinius had lived like the other kings, Brutus and Collatinus would have appealed to him for vengeance rather than to the people. Why would they have done so? The other kings did not refrain from “cruel and proud examples” (I 9, 19, 24), but their “orders” differed from Tarquinius’ practice in allow ing the people a share in “important things” (I 3,4) as opposed to “mechanical things,” in which they apparently concurred w ith the later republican practice (I 9). Indeed in I 3 Machiavelli had attributed to the “Tarquins,” not excluding the last one, the policy of checking 16. Livy, I 57. 2; 59. 9.

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the nobles through fear, which could not fail to gratify the people (I 16, 55; II 2). The Roman republican policy of favoring the people over the nobles, as we have seen, resembles not the king’s but precisely the tyrant’s policy of alliance with the people against the nobles. It would not be inconsistent with this policy to encourage and require the Senate to share the onus and the envy of authority by having it approve decisions in public places, rather than to concentrate authority in the palace of the king: again this practice would serve the interest not neces¬ sarily of the lawful king (as in III 1) but of the tyrant intent on securing his own rule who knows how to move others to his ends. It appears therefore, contrary to the drift if not the sense of Machiavelli’s words, that Tarquinius Superbus did not carry his tyranny far enough in regard to the people and did not disguise it well enough in regard to the Senate. Brutus and Collatinus would have appealed to him for vengeance if they had thought him capable of satisfying it against his own son—if they had recognized in him a kindred spirit to that of Brutus himself, w illing to proceed forcibly against the crimes of his ow n sons for the sake of his fatherland. But then Tarquinius would have had to make a show of his (republican?) severity w ith a memorable execu¬ tion that w ould impress the people; he would have had to deflect their anger at his son’s unfortunate error and their rebelliousness against himself by offering his son for sacrifice in a kind of appeal to the people. Brutus and Collatinus, for their part, suspecting some such tyrant’s trick as this, w ould have attempted to get vengeance by appealing to the people unless Tarquinius, in his turn suspect¬ ing their design, had anticipated them. In short, a prudent prince, whether republican or tyrant, would appeal to the people in this situation so as to give them a share in “important things,” that is, a share in the guilt of the sacrifice. Machiavelli has said that princes deprived of their rule w ill condemn them¬ selves when they recognize that they could have kept it by obeying the law s and being loved by the good. This remark yields a definition of Machiavellian guilt: it is self-condemnation for having lost power when one could have kept it through goodness. Guilt is a rare sensation for a Machiavellian prince, for one cannot keep power through goodness. One must keep power as it is first seized, by causing the people to share in the consciousness of the necessary injustice of government. The people believe in goodness, which means in the power and sufficiency of goodness; so unless they are involved in the badness of govern¬ ment, they w ill not believe it to be necessary and will throw the blame for it on the prince or the nobles. An error like that of Tarquinius’ son affords an oppor¬ tunity to vent popular indignation against immorality, with attendant satisfac¬ tion to the people’s goodness, and at the same time to induce them to accept the necessity of punishment, which makes them governable. Sharing in punishment forces the people to admit or to sense the necessity of badness against their will and their deepest desire to live in goodness: this is guilt in the ordinary or popular sense (see II 15), based on the illusion that goodness is sufficient, which every Machiavellian government, republican or tyrannical, learns to exploit. It

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is the purpose of indirect government to spread this kind of guilt, and Machiavelli blames Tarquinius not for his tyranny or his badness but for his foolish insistence on concentrating authority in his palace and thus failing to share the responsibility for badness or tyranny. The remedy suggested is rather obviously borrowed from the renew al of an ancient order by an ancient king, in which the primacy of love w as preached and the primacy of fear w as practiced. Princes w ho w ish to understand the easy w ay of being loved by the good and of obeying the laws are urged not to read the Bible but to “take as their mirror the life of good princes,” such as Timoleon of Corinth and Aratus of Sicyon. They can easily be imitated, Machiavelli asserts, for when men are well gov¬ erned, they neither seek nor wish any other liberty, as happened with the peoples of these tw o princes, w ho w ere constrained to be princes as long as they lived even though they attempted many times to return to private life. This is the only explicit reference in Machiavelli’s w ritings to the literature on “mirror of princes” (compare II 13; The Prince, chap. 14), and considering that it points to lives in Plutarch and ignores the genre of medieval mirrors of princes al¬ together, one cannot call it a recommendation. Timoleon and Aratus were not moral luminaries; the former killed his brother and the latter was the daytime coward and nighthawk held up for imitation in II 32. They were both nonRomans w ho overthrew tyrants in cities not their ow n. Their desire for private life (vita privata) did not result in their being deprived (privati) of their prin¬ cipalities because they were constrained by the people to rule. We will assume that they did not make the mistake of Tarquinius Superbus, but condescended to be humane instead of proud (I 41). Perhaps the people forced them to rule because the people were well governed like the Capuans w ho asked the Romans for a praetor (II 21); only instead of asking for government they required it. Such good princes can be compared to the men of quality who w ish to live in retirement, for as the latter, like Plato’s philosophers, might have to be con¬ strained to serve as kings, the former, Machiavelli’s good princes, suggest the possibility of ruling from private life. Indirect government culminates in the art of ruling from private life, substantially or altogether hidden from public view and playing the fool, like Brutus, with a political motive, rather than merely for self-protection. In this w ay the philosopher, as master-conspirator directing but not executing his designs, can intervene in politics from a safe distance. “It did not appear to me that I should omit reasoning on conspiracies.” So Machiavelli begins by far the longest chapter of the Discourses (the longest chap¬ ter of The Prince, chapter 19, is also on conspiracies), the only chapter said to have parts and an “order,” altogether a separate treatise on the subject.17 “On Conspiracies” is a new subject for political philosophy. The ancient writers had told stories of particular conspiracies, but these had never been placed in the foreground to illustrate a theme that could lead to a practical recommendation. 17. S., p. 90.

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Aristotle discussed two ways of maintaining tyranny, the way of terror which he rejects in favor of a curious proposal for transforming tyranny into monarchy, anticipated by Plato and Xenophon, in which it is suggested that the tyrant in his own interest make himself resemble a monarch.18 As these writers were not blind to the existence of conspiracies, they were not insensitive to the need to understand them. Their support of legality and morality did not prevent them from entering by imagination into the tyrant’s interest and conceiving how he might foil conspiraeies against himself. Indeed, the tyrant and the con¬ spirator must study each other, as must the policeman and the criminal, because the science of foiling conspiracies is identical to the science of making them.19 Yet in contrast to Machiavelli, the ancient writers did not pursue this study, but left it in the background, where in its undeveloped state it could serve neither tyrant nor conspirator. For some medieval writers, tyrannicide was a notable topic, but they disputed the justice of it and did not proceed to ways and means. Machiavelli fills this very long chapter with the ways and means of conspiracy, and does not consider the justice of it. It is true that in the first paragraph he quotes the ugolden judgment” of Cornelius Tacitus that “men have to honor past things and obey present things”;20 and he emphasizes how dangerous conspiracy is to “princes and private men.” Many more princes have lost their lives and states from conspiraey than from “open war” (compare II 32; III 2), since the power of making open war on a prince is given to few, but the power to conspire against him is conceded to everyone (see II 10, beg.). Yet private men take on no enterprise more dangerous or bold than conspiracy, whence it results that while many attempt it, very few reach the end desired. Machiavelli, “therefore,” will speak of conspiracy “discursively” (diffusamente) in order that princes may guard them¬ selves from these dangers and private men take them on “more timidly” or live contentedly under the power ordained by fate and with esteem for that golden judgment of Cornelius Tacitus. If they do otherwise, they “most times”21 ruin themselves and their fatherland. In this chapter Machiavelli advises princes and, in place of republics, private men with concern for themselves and their fatherland. Princes cannot choose to live by the saying of Tacitus, but private men may do so. If Machiavelli had been w illing to tell a lie, saying that private men must avoid conspiracy because it always brings ruin, then he could have passed over the danger to princes by frow ning at the imprudence of the disobedient. As things are, it appears that conspiracies are dangerous for princes because many private men undertake them and succeed in killing the prince if not in attaining “the end desired.” The 18. Aristotle, Politics 1313a 34-1315b 11. 19. Plato, Republic 334a. 20. There are four quotations from Tacitus in the Discourses: in I 29; II 26; III 6, 19. The last three are at intervals of thirteen chapters (S., p. 325nl70), and of these the first is in Latin, the second translated into Italian, and the third is in invented Latin. 21. Cf. D. II 27 (beg.)

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danger for princes would not be so great if the danger for private men w ere as impressive as Machiavelli tries to assert. Moreover, with his discursive treat¬ ment of the dangers of conspiracy, does he not run the risk of repeating the mistake of Nurias’ speech to the Athenians in opposition to the Sicilian expedi¬ tion? When every danger is explained, it can be countered; and in fact, we find an answer in this discourse for every difficulty in conspiracy that is brought up. Conspiracy is discouraged directly, and with such detail that it is thereby encouraged indirectly. This proves to mean that direct conspiracy is discour¬ aged and indirect conspiracy encouraged. At the end of III 5, Machiavelli promised to speak at length in the following chapter about “humors aroused against princes.’’ In III 6 he neither mentions this promise nor fulfills it—except as one arouses humors by show ing how to attain “the end desired.” T his chapter is chiefly addressed to the man of notable quality (III 2) who would rather retire. It show s him how to enter politics effectively by indirect conspiracy. It shows him how to avoid the dangers of conspiracy by separating the movers or executioners of the conspiracy from the one who has inspired it, while maintain¬ ing a connection between them w hich combines “extrinsic accident” and “in¬ trinsic prudence” (III 1). Machiavelli had said in the proemium to the first book that he believed he could carry his burden so as to leave a short journey to another to carry it to its destined place. This division of labor must now be explained if his enterprise is to appear feasible. The intention of this chapter is not merely to discuss the neglected topic of conspiracies; it is chiefly to discuss Machiavelli’s conspiracy, through which conspiracies in general will (not inci¬ dentally) receive their due attention for the first time. In quoting from Tacitus, he honors past things; but he obeys present things only to the extent of forsw earing conventional ambition. Now entering into the matter, Machiavelli says w e must first consider against whom conspiracies are made; and they are made against the fatherland or against a prince. I le begins with conspiracies against a prince and devotes “this first part,” w hich is four-fifths of the chapter, to that aspect; then he finishes w ith conspiracies against the fatherland. This is, as was said, the only chapter for w hich he marks out parts and assigns places in an order w ithin the chapter, but he never finds a place in his outline for the question of by whom conspiracies are made, though he began by addressing princes and private men in order to warn them of and off conspiracies. The assumption is now that conspiracies will be attempted, and the discussion mixes attempts by princes and private men. When conspiring, private men must anticipate the actions of princes, and princes, those of private men; the distinctions of status tend to disappear as men imagine themselves in a condition comparable to what Hobbes w as to call the ^ “state of nature.” According to Machiavelli, men have no easy rule of natural law by which to imagine their behavior in this state; so for him the best prince w ill be a private man w ith long anticipation and boundless imagination. He says further that he wishes to confine the discussion to these two topics because he

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has sufficiently spoken “above” of conspiracies made to give a “land” to besieg¬ ing enemies, and of those that through some cause are similar to this. This is to say that he has sufficiently discussed, in II 32 and in Book II generally, the methods by which the “Romans” have occupied the West. It is now in order to see how to take it away from them. First in the first part, Machiavelli will examine the causes of conspiracies against the prince. He says they are many but one is very much more important than all the others: to be hated by the “universality.” For it is reasonable that the prince against whom universal hatred has been aroused will have offended particular individuals w ho desire revenge. Thus the hatred of the people be¬ comes dangerous to the prince not through the pressure of universal dislike but from the likelihood that he w ill have offended certain men whose desire for revenge, it is now said, is aggravated, not caused, by the universally hostile disposition aroused against him. The people’s hatred amounts to the danger of revenge from a few , and though everyone has the power to conspire, all men do not exercise it together (as one might have supposed from Piero Soderini’s concern for alarming the “universality” in III 3). If the people’s hatred must be aroused, it would follow that the most important cause of conspiracies against the prince is in whoever arouses it, not in the people and perhaps not even in the particular individuals w hose desire for revenge is increased by universal hatred for the prince. Machiavelli says a prince must therefore avoid these “private charges,” but he will not speak here about how to do so, since he has treated the matter elsewhere (II 24, 28). Simple individual offenses w ill “make less w ar” for him (note the identification of w ar and conspiracy), because one rarely meets men w ho estimate an injury so greatly as to put themselves in such danger to avenge it, and because even if they have the w ill (animo) and the power, they w ill be restrained by the universal benevolence that they see the prince has. Then Machiavelli proceeds to consider how' to avoid such “private charges,” despite having said he would not. The reason for considering a topic he has just set aside will be found in the topic he has apparently forgotten, arousing humors against a prince. He wishes to suggest that, despite the difficulties he will cite, one can avenge a great injury from the prince even against the universal benevo¬ lence enjoyed by that prince. He mentions three injuries—those to property, blood, and honor; and of bloody injuries, he says in his Machiavellian manner that menaces are more dangerous than executions.22 He who is dead cannot think of revenge, and the living usually leave the thought of it to “you.” Will a dead prince be avenged, then, even if he w as universally loved?23 But he w ho is menaced, who sees himself under the necessity of acting or submitting, becomes a man very dangerous to the prince, as Machiavelli w ill show us “in its place.” Beyond this necessity—which pertains to life—the prince must guard himself from offending men in their property and honor, for one cannot so far despoil 22. P. 3; S., p. 327nl87. 23. See P 19.

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another that he has no knife left to avenge himself, nor so dishonor him that he does not retain a mind determined (uno animo ostinato) on revenge. Two kinds of dishonoring are specified: those concerning women, which matter more; and after these, contempt (vilipendio, 11 26) to one’s person. They are illustrated by the first two of the sixty-five examples that adorn and inform this ehapter. The example of Pausanias and Philip of Macedon (II 28) illustrates contempt of the person; and “in our times” Luzio Belanti undertook a conspiracy against Pandolfo Petrucci because the latter had given him his daughter for a wife and then taken her away. Machiavelli adds an example of property injury in the taking of an estate, which he says was the major cause of the Pazzi conspiracy against the Medici. This addition out of order has the effect of turning our attention to the central example, where we spy the injury done to all men by the prince here named “Pandolfo” and called “tyrant.” Though Machiavelli has announced his natural desire to bring “without any respect” common benefit to everyone (I pr.), he presents himself at this point as armed with the respectable and pow er¬ ful motive of an offended husband. Another cause, a “very great” one, which makes men conspire against the prince, is the desire to liberate the fatherland which has been seized by him. This cause moved Brutus and Cassius against Caesar, and many others against Phalarises, Dionysiuses, and others who have seized their fatherlands. Machiavelli does not, perhaps, sufficiently distinguish these possessors or usurp¬ ers (w ho were all native tyrants) from defenders of their own property and honor, of whose vengeance he has just warned princes. I le slides from “prince” to “tyrant” as he remarks that no tyrant could guard himself from this humor except by resigning his tyranny. If the distinction betw een conspiracies against the prince and conspiracies against the fatherland is perfect, every prince must be a tyrant or “occupier” of his fatherland. Now, Machiavelli continues, since no one is found who resigns his tyranny, few are found who do not end badly; and he quotes Juvenal declaring that kings and tyrants descend to I lades “to the son-in-law of Ceres” covered w ith blood.24 Apparently tyrants are not deterred by Juvenal’s report (w hich would not have to be made from Hades), and their unwillingness to resign, and to sw allow this sure cure for all causes of conspir¬ acy against them, is the only hint of one most “important,” “very great” cause of conspiracy, w hich has been conspicuously absent so far: ambition. For we see that, according to Juvenal, tyrants would have to resign kingship in resigning tyranny. No one is found who resigns tyranny, but Machiavelli has done that; for he know s a w ay of avenging himself after he is dead. He w ill leave behind something to make the prince universally hated, and w hen the situation is ripe, he will expect a conspirator to come forw ard with a knife and a determined spirit. Machiavelli is “most dangerous” for the prince even though—or rather because—he is not constrained by the necessity to act or submit. 24. Satires X. 112-113. Juvenal’s worldly wisdom is also quoted in II 19 and II 24. Cf. J. H. Whitfield, Machiavelli (Oxford, 1947), p. 133.

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Having discussed indirectly the arousing of humors against the prince, Machiavelli now refers to his beginning remarks on the great dangers run in conspiracies as if he w ere ready to elaborate them. But instead, he digresses for three pages on the number of conspirators. Conspirators, he begins, are either one or many. When there is only one conspirator, however, one cannot speak of a conspiracy; rather, that is a “firm disposition arising in one man to kill the prince.” We now receive a short lesson, w ith examples, on this kind of noncons¬ piracy. This one man alone runs no danger in “managing” the conspiracy before it has been executed, for since no one else has his secret, no danger exists that his design can come to the ear of the prince. Taken very literally, this statement would mean either that no such thing as conscience exists, since no one else can know the secret one keeps to oneself, or that God is a silent partner in every conspiracy. As we shall see, Machiavelli does not force us to guess that a connection exists between conspiracy and conscience. Here he says, in confir¬ mation of his remark, that anyone can conspire against the prince, that this decision can occur in any man w hatever, of whatever sort—great, small, noble, ignoble, familiar and not familiar to the prince (three identical pairs); for it is permitted to everyone to speak to him, and whoever can speak can “purge his mind” (animo, I 8). Could one purge his mind by speaking only?25 Pausanias, w hom Machiavelli acknowledges he has spoken of other times, killed Philip of Macedon as Philip w as going to the temple surrounded by a thousand armed men and even between his son and his son-in-law7 (compare the son-in-law in the Pandolfo example and the Juvenal quotation), so exposed w as he when seemingly so well protected. Pausanias was noble and known to the prince, Machiavelli concedes; so he adds the instance of a Spaniard, “poor and abject” (compare II 13), who yet had the spirit and means to give the king of Spain a knife slash in the neck. Also a certain dervish, a Turkish priest, sw ung a scimitar at Bajazet, “father of the present l urk”; he too had the spirit and the means, even though he missed entirely. In sum, however, many of those minds determined on killing the prince wish to do so, since there is no penalty or danger in w ishing (again, mark the implication for conscience), but few7 do it because they do not wish to go to a certain death in the execution. Let us come then to conspiracies proper, among more than one conspirator. “I say” that in the histories one finds all conspiracies to have been made by great men, or men very familiar w ith the prince. Others cannot conspire unless they are in fact mad (;matti, see III 2), because weak men, not familiar with the prince, lack the hopes and the means required for the execution of a conspiracy. “Hopes” replace “spirit” because the conspirator wishes to survive his conspir¬ acy; and to survive requires a firm disposition to replace the prince. Machiavelli does not give us this definition of conspiracy proper, corresponding to his definition of the pseudoconspiracy, so that we can sense the fundamental diffi25. Mandragola I. 1; III. 3.

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culty and danger of replacing the prince. Weak men, he says, cannot meet others that will keep faith with them, since one cannot consent to their will without any of the hopes that cause men to run great dangers; and if they do enlist two or three persons, they find they have enlisted an accuser; and even if they are lucky in this, they fail for lack of easy access to the prince. Great men who conspire are oppressed by the difficulties to be discussed below, and for weak men, these difficulties multiply without end. Men are not altogether insane as regards life and property (honor is pointedly omitted); so w hen they see they are w eak, they are deterred, and they content themselves w ith cursing the prince, and w ait for those having “greater quality” than theirs (see 1112) to avenge them. Machiavelli would praise the intention and not the prudence of those w ho try something nevertheless—from w hich w e can infer that prudence has to do w ith the defense of one’s life and property. But is there not some prudent way for a weak man to launch a conspiracy? The discussion returns to familiars of the prince, but now to those w ho have become his familiars and have risen through his benefits. Many conspirators have been motivated “as much by too many benefits as by too many injuries.” Five examples of ungrateful conspirators are given, of w hich only one, a modern example and the thirteenth in the chapter, was successful.26 The other such conspirator “in our times,” Coppola conspiring against King Ferdinand of Wa¬ gon, should have succeeded because “one can say’’ he w as one king conspiring against another. But the lust for domination that blinds such great men, blinds them also in the management of the enterprise, for if they had know n how to do “this wickedness” with prudence, it would have been impossible not to succeed. From this two-part statement it emerges that the lust for domination need not blind a kingly conspirator, indeed that w ith prudence, he cannot fail. Machiavelli, now advising a prince “w ho w ishes to guard himself against conspiracies,” says he should therefore fear more those w hom he has pleased too much than those whom he has injured too mueh. The former have greater means than the latter, and besides, the desire for domination is as great as or greater than the desire for revenge (see III 4). Accordingly, a prince should give such authority to his friends as w ill leave an interval between it and the princi¬ pality and thus something to desire in the middle. Otherw ise, it w ill be a rare thing if what happened to the princes mentioned above does not happen to him. But four of the five princes mentioned above executed those w ho conspired against them, and as regards the ordinarily useful advice of keeping a distance and an object of desire between one’s friends and oneself as prince, how can one restrain the appetite of the immoderate, ungrateful men under discussion by feeding it with “something to desire in the middle”? Machiavelli spoke of Coppola as another king, “one could say,” conspiring against King Ferdinand. Perhaps he means for us to imagine this advice as 26. On the greater success of ingratitude in modern times, see IF. \ III 32.

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directed to a prince who is the leader, not the object, of a conspiracy. In this ease, Machiavelli the prince-conspirator offers intermediate objects of ambition to other princes who join his enterprise. He can make the offer while “poor and abject” because writers can alw ays gain access to the prince and become very familiar to him—a faculty “one finds” in the histories but not in the explicit words of historians. By advising well, the writer who begins as friend and favorite gains an ascendancy over the nominal “prince” which ought to be called princely.27 Though Machiavelli often uses both “prince” and “king” to name the one alone who founds orders and determines politics, his favorite is “prince,” perhaps because it is nominally second to “king” and literally first. For that one man in whom arises a firm disposition to kill the prince is or can make himself the true prince. Returning to “our order,” Machiavelli says he must discuss the outcomes (successi) of these enterprises and see the cause w hy they w ere successful or unsuccessful. Whereas he had begun from the standpoint of the prince against conspirators, after the digression on the number of conspirators he adopts the standpoint of the conspirator and retains it for most of the chapter. He con¬ spicuously refrains from saying whether conspirators, or which conspirators, deserve to be successful; so this chapter could seem to support the view' of Croce28 that Machiavelli conceived the “autonomy of politics” from morality and the view of others that, for having done so, he deserves to be called the first political scientist. To judge these claims made on behalf of Machiavelli, but not by him, one must observe that an “autonomous” politics has a new character: it allow s a new or at least unheard-of prominence to conspiracy. Thus it indulges and needs to indulge in dubious morality precisely in order to display its emancipation from morality. In the current Bohemian such indulgence sometimes causes a tw inge of bad conscience, because he may sense he is not free from the morality he needs to defy, and that his defiance is akin to, even identical w ith, moral pride. But Machiavelli know s that his polities is not autonomous from the morality it needs to shock. Indeed, having no standard of natural right by w hich to improve or instruct existing morality, his politics is more rather than less dependent on convention. His analysis of conspiracy proceeds to show’ how’ to produce suc¬ cessful outcomes, or how' to make new' conventions rather than how to become free of them. The instructor himself has a certain elevation over those whom he instructs to be free of inhibitions. But in this he only imitates the “autonomy” of the classical political philosophers, and unlike them, he is dependent on the success of his pupils in creating conventions and maintaining inhibitions. Speaking from the standpoint of the conspirator, then, Machiavelli repeats that dangers exist at three times: before, during the deed, and after. "Those before are most important, for “I say” that one needs to be very prudent and 27. See P. 14, 22. 28. Benedetto Croce, Elementi dipolitico (Bari, 1925) pp. 60-65.

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enjoy great luck if in managing a conspiracy it is not to be discovered. Con¬ spiracies are discovered through report or through conjecture; and through report by the faithlessness (poca fede) or imprudence (pocaprudenza) in the men to whom you communicate it. It is easy to meet w ith faithlessness since you can only tell either those you trust (tuoi fidati), w ho for your love w ill expose themselves to death, or men w ho are ill content w ith the prince. Of trusted ones, you can find but one or two; it is impossible to find many. Besides, their benevolence must be great, to outw eigh the danger and the fear of punishment. Thus men deceive themselves most times in the love “you judge that a man bears for you”; and you can never be certain w ithout a test, and a test is very dangerous. You cannot test a man’s faith with any other danger because this one far surpasses them; and if you measure the faith of someone by his ill¬ contentedness with the prince, as soon as you have revealed your ill-contented mind (animo) you give him the material with which to content himself. To keep someone faithful, it is necessary that his hatred be great or your authority be very great—we might suppose as great as that of a prince. W e see that the greatest test of faith is keeping secret a conspiracy against the prince, which w as said to be possible only for one or two, not for many. Now Machiavelli says that when one conspiracy is kept secret by many men for a long time, it is considered a “miraculous thing.” Yet he cites not one but two such conspiracies, that of Piso against Nero, and “in our times” that of the Pazzi against the Medici, both of which w ere know n to fifty men and w ere carried to execution before being revealed. He does not note that neither conspiracy was successful, but both solved the problem of poca fede in a miraculous w ay. As for being discovered through poea prudetjza, this happens when a con¬ spirator speaks incautiously so that a slave or some other third person hears you. A slave overheard the sons of Brutus conspiring with the ambassadors of 1 arquinius, though Machiavelli does not mention that the slave already knew of the conspiracy and was waiting lor evidence of it.29 Or through levity (leggerezza) you may communicate the conspiracy to a w oman or to a boy whom you love or to some other flighty (leggieri) person, as w hen Dimmo, a conspirator against Alexander the Great, communicated the conspiracy to his boyfriend, from whom it eventually reached the king by the route of lover to beloved to his brother to the king. YYe have little difficulty in identifying these slavish boyfriends who overhear or to w hom men lightly reveal their conspiracies. Poca prudenza consists in overlooking the possibility of poea fede; so a prudent conspiracy should take account of the possibility of being overheard or betrayed to some flighty person. Machiavelli considers this next in discussing how conspiracies are discovered through “conjecture.” Piso’s conspiracy against Nero serves to illustrate discovery through conjec¬ ture. On the day before he was to kill Nero, Scaevinus, one of the conspirators 29. Livy, II 4. 57.

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made his w ill, ordered his freedman Milichus to sharpen a rusty dagger, freed all his slaves and gave them money, and ordered bandages to be made ready. Milichus, noticing these things—because what had been done for him?30— made a conjecture and accused Scaevinus to Nero. Scaevinus was taken together w ith another conspirator w ith whom he had been seen speaking at length and in secret the day before; and since their stories did not accord, they were forced to confess the truth. Tacitus, who communicated this conspiracy to Machiavelli, told it to a flighty, or anyway not over-grave, person; but Machiavelli uses it to make the serious point that even a conspirator guilty of such comic imprudence as Scaevinus could have escaped if he had arranged a cover story w ith his confederate. Indeed, the fatal conjecture w as not from the signs of his prepara¬ tion but from that lack of accord. One might usefully apply conjecture from lack of accord in recounting or reasoning (ragionamente) to the reading of Machiavelli’s books, in case he should be involved in a conspiracy. His account here of Piso’s conspiracy does not accord with the account he gave above, w hen he said that it w as discovered only at the time of its execution. In the following example conjecture was defeated and the conspiracy saved by “one alone,” “a strong man” who with “strength of spirit” kept silent about the conspirators. Machiavelli says that from these causes, which he restates as malice, imprudence, and levity (is faithlessness equivalent to malice or to lev¬ ity?), it is impossible to prevent conspiracies from being discovered whenever those who share in know ledge of it (i conscii) pass three or four (w hich is more than the one or two faithful to you). If more than one is taken, he repeats, the conspiracy is discovered because the two cannot agree in all their “reasonings.” But the one of strong spirit can keep silent, provided that the conspirators have no less spirit than he to stand firm and not to betray themselves by flight, for the conspiracy is discovered on the side where spirit is lacking, whether by the one arrested or the one that remains free. Livy cites a “rare example” in the conspir¬ acy against Hieronymus, king of Syracuse, in which Theodore, one of the conspirators, w as taken, yet with great virtue concealed all the conspirators and accused the friends of the king. These last w ere partisans of the Roman alliance, as we find in Livy’s account; they were also innocent. For their part, Machiavelli continues, the conspirators trusted so much in the virtue of Theo¬ dore that not one left Syracuse or gave any sign of fear. Livy says that they trusted in the virtue and faith of Theodore.31 But for Machiavelli his virtue, the virtue of a strong man, was the basis of their faith. Those who share in the know ledge of the conspiracy do not need a faith transcending the conspiracy, and for them the cause of poca fede in the conspiracy would be poca prudenza in any of the few7 sharing know ledge of it, whether under arrest or at large. Prepared by the success of Theodore, we now’ learn the remedies to the dangers of “managing” a conspiracy before its execution, of w hich “the first and 30. Tacitus, Annals XV 54; NM omits Tacitus’ strictures on the freedman’s ingratitude. 31. Livy, XXIV 5. 14.

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truest, or to speak better the only one,” is to not give time to the conspirators to accuse you, to communicate the matter to them when you w ish them to do it, and not before. Those who have done this certainly escape the dangers of preparation, and most times the other dangers; indeed, all such have had a “happy ending” and any prudent man has the means to conduct himself in this way. Everyone has the power to conspire, we recall; but now we are told that everyone with prudence has the means to succeed, despite all the dangers that have been and w ill be recounted and that w ere recently said to make success “almost impossible.” Machiavelli says that two examples will suffice, but then gives three, and adds a fourth to show that everyone can succeed w ith this remedy. Nelematus, unable to tolerate the tyranny of Aristotimus, the tyrant of Epirus,32 gathered his relatives and friends together in his house and exhorted them to liberate their fatherland. W hen some of them asked for time to consider, he had his servants close the gates and addressed his hesitant friends: “l ather you swear to go now to accomplish this execution or I will give you all as prisoners to Aristotimus.” W hereupon they swore, left right aw ay, and success¬ fully executed Nelematus’ order. This is the first and only literal conspiracy in the chapter, for Machiavelli uses the term congiura, a sw earing-together, for the only time w ith regard to conspirators’ swearing. Those who swear together should be contrasted w ith those w ho share know ledge of the conspiracy (/ conscii), as is clear in the example. Nelematus made his ow n decision not to tolerate the tyrant, thus forming a firm disposition to kill the prince like the single pseudoconspirator, and then presented his decision for approval to his unsuspecting associates for the sake of liberating their fatherland, and w hen this w as not enough, for the sake of saving their lives from punishment for conspir¬ acy. Nelematus’ conspiracy combines the pseudoconspiracy of one man's firm disposition with the true conspiracy that requires communication, and is in fact first executed on the conspirators themselves. They are forced to swear to it precisely because they did not know of it, and they swear by some unnamed authority in fear of a human prince, Nelematus or Aristotimus. Or would it have been different had Aristotimus been an invisible prince? Nelematus turned their fear of being accused against their fear of being discovered, or turned the fear of discovery against itself, in order to make them trustworthy. I Ie advanced the managing of the conspiracy into the execution of it, so that his plan w as not indifferent to or separable from the means of execution, but issued in its execu¬ tion, coming to light in a sudden revelation of end and means together. When a Magian seized the kingdom of Persia by deceit, Ortanes, one of the great men of the kingdom, uncovered the fraud and brought it before six other princes of that state, saying that it w as up to him to “avenge” that kingdom for the tyranny of that Magian. When some of them asked for time, Darius, one of 32. NM has changed one name and the place of this conspiracy, W., II 159-160. He makes little mistakes, some significant, some not, to show that these are his examples.

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the six called together by Ortanes, got up and said: “Either we go now' to accomplish this execution or I w ill go to accuse all of you.”33 So they got up together without giving anyone time to repent and successfully executed their design. Here a conspirator took over someone else’s conspiracy of seven men against a usurping priest; in the first example Machiavelli had changed the name of the conspirator (Nelematus instead of Hellanicus) and the place (Epirus instead of Aetolia). Ortanes proposed to “avenge the kingdom” rather than to “liberate his fatherland”—perhaps an equivalence if we remember the attention given to revenge in the first three examples. As Ortanes does not ask the six princes to liberate their native country, so Darius does not require them to swear an oath; and their fear of being accused is dressed up in the magnanimity of repenting. “Similar to these two examples” is the extra one about how the Aetolians killed Nabis, the Spartan tyrant. In I 40 Nabis was praised for having made his people friendly so that he could resist when attacked by “all Greece and the Roman people”; but now we see how he was brought down. When the Aeto¬ lians sent their citizen Alexamenus w ith thirty cavalry and two hundred infan¬ try to Nabis under the pretence of rendering him aid, they told the secret only to Alexamemus, and ordered the others to obey him in anything whatsoever under pain of exile. He w ent to Sparta, and did not reveal his commission until it was time to execute it, and so succeeded in killing Nabis. This was a conspir¬ acy of one captain who shared know ledge of the conspiracy and others, unwit¬ ting or even unw illing, who were bound only by fear of punishment and ex¬ pected to help the tyrant they executed. It is possible, then, to have different degrees of comprehension in a conspiracy, from the one w ho first forms a firm disposition to kill the prince down to forced accomplices. It is also possible to effect such a conspiracy from a great distance against a tyrant surrounded by a friendly people, and to do this w ith any necessary lapse of time betw een the issuance and the execution of the commission. That everyone can do this, Machiavelli w ill show w ith the example of Piso’s conspiracy against Nero, cited above. Piso w as a very great, highly reputed man, a familiar of Nero’s and much trusted by him. Nero often went to Piso’s garden to eat w ith him, and there Piso w as able to gain the friendship of “men of spirit and heart and of an apt disposition for such an execution (which is very easy for a great man).” So w hen Nero w as in his garden, he could communicate the matter to them, and w ith suitable words inspire them to do that which they had no time to refuse and in which they could not fail. If one examines all other conspiracies, few would be found that could not have been conducted in the same way; but ordinarily men who do not understand actions in the world often 33. Herodotus, III 70-72. NM omits Ortanes’ (Otanes’) reasonable inquiry as to how they w ill gain admission to the palace and Darius’ interesting reply; Seth Benardete, Herodotean Inquiries (The Hague, 1969), p. 84.

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make very grave errors, and so much the greater in those which have more of something extraordinary, like this one. Machiavelli’s promise to “everyone” that he can succeed in conspiracy is qualified with the distinction between ordinary and extraordinary actions that is known only to those who understand actions in the world. Who is it that understands such actions? We would be at a loss to understand why garden parties are so “extraordinary” and w hy they make it possible for “everyone” to remedy all the dangers of conspiracy if w e had not been taught in this book to use our imagination. Who has a garden to w hich he invites emperors and makes friends of men of spirit? Machiavelli does not mention Piso’s unw illingness to kill Nero in his garden34 because he himself is prompted by a natural desire to act for the common good of everyone sanza alcuno respetto (1 pr.) and cannot afford to stand on ceremony. The distinction betw een ordinary and extraordi¬ nary reappears from Book 1 (see also III 5, beg.) to remind us in this context of the founder’s ordering of the ordinary. When Machiavelli says that “everyone” can succeed in conspiracy, he means that he can. 1 le is poor and abject, but he knows how to become familiar w ith any prince and with men of spirit because he understands extraordinary actions. At this point Machiavelli brings up the danger of communicating in conspir¬ acy by w riting. One should never communicate the matter, he says, unless it is necessary and during the deed, that is, at the second state of conspiracy. If you still w ish to communicate it, do so to “one alone” of w hom you have had long experience, who is motivated by the same causes as you. A conspirator motivated by the same causes, w e might think, is not necessarily loyal to you; yet he will be loyal if the conspiracy is grand enough to contain both his ambition and his desire to liberate his fatherland. It is easier to find one such than more, and even if he deceives vou, you have a remedy to defend yourself as you do not w hen many conspire. “1 have heart! it said by someone prudent that anything can be said with one,” as long as you are not led to w rite anything in your ow n hand; for the yet of one is w orth as much as the no of the other. From writing everyone should guard himself as from a shoal, because nothing convicts you more easily than w hat is w ritten by your hand. Or can one w rite so that the yes is worth as much as the no? In the example following, a conspirator, Plautianus, was accused by a confederate to whom he had given a commission in w riting; he denied the charge so boldly that he would not have been convicted but for the note “and certain other signs.” The note by itself did not convict him. The next example illustrates bold denying, not w riting. In the conspiracy of Piso, a woman called Epicharis, formerly a mistress of Nero’s,35 attempted to enlist a certain captain by telling him of the conspiracy but not the conspirators. W hen he, breaking faith, accused her to Nero, her boldness in denial w as such 34. Tacitus, Annals XV 52. 35. Here NM speaks more explicitly than Tacitus, Annals XV 51.

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that Nero became confused and did not condemn her. Would her boldness have been proof against written evidence? Machiavelli does not say, but we may remark that she was cautious enough to describe the conspiracy without naming the conspirators. Such prudence might have saved Plautianus, regardless of written evidence. There are two dangers, Machiavelli says, in communicating the matter to “one alone”: he may accuse you on purpose and he may accuse you under torture. In each case there is some remedy; one can deny the charge alleging the hatred of the accuser or the force that made him tell lies. This advice specifies how to say no to an accuser’s yes, but since your no is in effect a counteraccusa¬ tion, it reminds us of the steadfast behavior of I heodorus, the conspirator under arrest, w ho was praised for accusing others. The yes and no of allegation reflect the interchangeability of the conspirator and the one conspired against and the equivalence of hatred and the force of torture as motives. Machiavelli says it is prudent not to communicate the matter to anyone, but to do as recommended the examples “written above” (since he is w riting); or if you do still com¬ municate it, you should not exceed “one,” as one is much less dangerous than “many.” We may consider whether it is possible to w rite to one and to many at the same time, by relying on the ability of the one and the inability of the many to make the proper substitutions between conspirators and counterconspirators. In the two examples follow ing, this possibility is explored. Similar to the mode of communicating only during the deed is the necessity that forces you to do to the prince what you see he would like to do to you, which is the greater as it gives you no time to think except of how to seeure yourself. Now' for the first time in the chapter, in two examples where con¬ spirators were forced to counter the conspiracy of the prince against them, “necessity” is introduced. In an earlier discussion of revenge, conspiracy out of necessity had been put off to “its place” here, w here we can consider it in connection w ith communicating the conspiracy by w riting. Marcia, mistress of the Kmperor Commodus, intercepted a list on which Commodus had marked her and several others for death the follow ing night: for they had reproved him several times for the ways w ith which he disgraced his own person and the empire. When she saw w hat w as intended, she acquainted tw o of the others on the list, and the three of them, not w asting time, killed Commodus the follow¬ ing night. The other example is that of Macrinus, “a man rather civil than warlike” who was prefect to the Emperor Caracalla, and at one time on expedi¬ tion with him in Mesopotamia. And since princes w ho are not good alw ays fear that others will do to them w hat they themselves deserve, Caracalla wrote to his friend Materianus in Rome to discover from the astrologers w hether anyone w as aspiring to the empire, and to let him know. Materianus w rote that it was Macrinus who aspired, but the letter came first into the hands of Macrinus, who thereupon recognized the necessity that he must kill the emperor before the next mail arrived from Rome, or die. So he commissioned a centurion whom he

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trusted—whose brother Caracalla had killed a few days before—to do the deed; and it was “executed” successfully. This conspiracy was executed in both mean¬ ings of the term, carry out and punish capitally, for in conspiracy the two meanings converge. In both examples, the conspirators—a woman and an unwarlike man—began counterconspiracies because they intercepted written messages which gave them no time to hesitate. Machiavelli likens “the necessity that does not give time” to the way Nelematus forced his associates to join his conspiracy or be denounced to the prince. I le reminds us of his saying that threats harm princes, and are the source of more effectual conspiracies than injuries; and he says that either men must be caressed or one must secure oneself against them.36 From the standpoint of the conspirators such as Nelematus, however, men can be usefully threatened; for they will have to secure themselves not against Nelematus but against the prince. Suppose Marcia had forged the note w hich she claimed to have intercepted, and then used it to get her associates to kill Commodus; or in the other example, suppose Materianus in Rome had fabri¬ cated his report from the astrologers with the intention that it come to Macrinus and put him under the necessity of killing Caracalla. By w riting, a conspirator can issue threats that arouse humors against the prince, that produce “the necessity that does not give time,” and that force men to act or die. How may this be done? Machiavelli causes men to think sinful thoughts, each according to his capacity. To cause men to sin in thought or intention is to put them under threat of God’s punishment, and thus to impel them to face that punishment or join Machiavelli’s conspiracy. They must make this “choice” under pressure of “the necessity that does not give time,” their mortality. Machiavelli shares this necessity of course, but by putting other men under the same necessity as he to decide on the meaning of their mortality he can extend his “influence,” as we say so w eakly today, beyond the span of his life. This “influence” of a w riter is called his fortuna by the Italians; and so it can be said that Machiavelli desired to master his ow n fortune by means of his own conspir¬ acy. His revenge, as he first presented his motive, is shown to be identical with his necessity; for he is forced to conspire against the prince. Then his necessity will appear as identical w ith his ambition, w ith his natural desire to bring a common benefit for everyone. Dangers in the course of execution, the second time of danger, arise from change in the plan (ordine), from lack of spirit in him w ho executes, or from error by the executor through lack of prudence or through not completing the thing (non dareperfezione alia cosa), leaving alive some of those he intended to kill. To explain the first danger, Machiavelli says that nothing so disturbs and hin¬ ders all the actions of men as to have to change the plan from that which had first been ordered, and especially in “things of w ar and things similar to these” 36. See P. 3.

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w hich we are speaking now. Machiavelli chooses to remind us again at this point of the similarity between war and conspiracy, that is, of the connection betw een the subject of Book II as a w hole, militia, and his present concern (see especially II 13, 32). For in war and conspiracy, nothing is so necessary as that men harden their spirits to execute the part assigned to them, for w hich they must turn their imaginations for several days “to one way and to one order.” If

of

this is suddenly changed, they w ill be perturbed and everything w ill be ruined; so it is better to stay w ith the given plan, despite a few inconveniences, than to cancel it and enter into a thousand inconveniences. But if a man has time to plan anew' (riordinarsi), he can conduct himself as he pleases (a suo modo). Thus it is having a plan or an “order” that hardens the spirit to execution, not hearing an inspiring speech delivered before the deed. The first danger in execution leads to the second. Machiavelli has just advised leaving no time for repenting, and putting one’s coconspirators under a necessity to act, precisely by changing the plan to sur¬ prise them. Now7 he says that they must be given time to harden their spirits; and he illustrates the point w ith a single modern example, the Pazzi conspiracy against the Medici. According to plan, the Pazzi conspiracy would have been a breakfast execution, but word arrived at the last moment that Guiliano de’ Medici would not come. The conspirators met and decided that what they would have had to do in the Medici house they would now do in the church.37 This disturbed the w hole plan because the conspirator assigned to execute Guiliano refused to do it in a church, and his two replacements, lacking time to harden their spirits, muffed the job. In the Florentine Histories (VIII 5), however, this story is told differently. There Machiavelli stresses the “great and firm spirit” needed for such an affair, but he blames lack of spirit in the declining conspirator, and quotes him as saying that he would never have the spirit to commit such an excess in a church and thus add sacrilege to treason. He also says that the two replaeements lacked spirit because they were inept, not because they lacked time to harden their spirits. Thus in the Florentine Histories, religious scruple in this case appears as lack of spirit, and in the Discourses lack of spirit is reduced to the change of plan. Clearly, the conspirator assigned to execute Guiliano was in a situation of kill the prince or be killed, but he declined to recognize “the necessity that does not give time” because of his fear of sacrilege, his fear of God. Such men must have their spirits hardened until they recognize their necessity; and their spirits may be hardened by giving them an assigned task in a plan fixed beforehand, despite the inconveniences of inflexibility. It might seem that all men would have the simple prudence of Marcia and Macrinus to recognize their necessity when it confronts them, but they do not. They are blinded by w hat would later be 37. NM has conflated a second plan with the first in order to contrast the Medici house with the church; see I.F., Dedicatory Letter; VIII 5. Mansfield, “Party and Sect in Machiavelli’s Florentine Histories,” pp. 218-219.

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called the “fear of invisible spirits. ’38 Machiavelli had a plan for counteracting this fear which would reproduce the pressure of necessity and harden men’s spirits. With this plan he gave himself the time “to conduct himself as he pleases” so that he himself would not have to execute his own conspiracy during his own lifetime. It was by insistence on men’s mortality that he hoped to overcome his ow n mortality, and achieve some measure of the life after death on earth that Christianity had shown to be attainable. In considering the second danger of execution, lack of spirit, Machiavelli develops his seeming confusion betw een change of plan and lack of spirit into a distinction between prudence and spirit, or, we might say, between intellect and nobility. He says that spirit is lacking in him who executes either through reverence or through the cowardice of the executor. Thus he begins w ith the very point omitted from the account he had just given of the Pazzi conspiracy, and illustrates reverence in the failure of a slave (Plutarch says a barbarian soldier) to kill Marius when Marius had been taken prisoner. The slave w as so frightened by the “presence of that man” and the memory of his name that he became cowardly anti lost all power to kill him. Plutarch says that the soldier made the Minturnians (who w ere Roman citizens) ashamed of their injustice and ingratitude to Marius,39 but Machiavelli proceeds in the contrary direction to say that if this presence is in a prisoner, how much greater w ill be the majesty of an “unshackled” prince (see I 58), whose pomp frightens you or else w ith a pleasing greeting tames you. Instead of finding the basis of reverence in gratitude, he quickly transforms it into fear and cow ardice. In the next example he describes some conspirators against an unshackled prince, Sitalces, king of'Thrace. They came to the appointed spot, but no one of them moved to harm him; so they left without having attempted anything “and without knowing w hat had prevented them,” accusing one another. They fell into this error other times, Machiavelli adds, and when the conspiracy was discovered, they bore the punishment of that evil they could have done and did not have the w ill to do. We note that now the cow ardice of such conspirators is resolved into ignorance, w hich is so profound that it cannot be remedied by repeated opportunities, and so disabling that it does not even betray their evil intent—the intent that was therefore visited on them. Indeed this example appears to have been invented by Machiavelli:40 a conspiracy never made be¬ cause it was mysteriously prevented. Two brothers of Duke Alfonso of Ferrara used his priest to bring him to them many times. Yet neither dared to kill him, and w hen discovered, they bore the punishment of their wickedness and lack of prudence. Their negligence must be explained by either the presence of the prince that frightened them or “some 38. Hobbes, Leviathan, chap. 14. 39. Plutarch, Cains Marius 39. 40. Walker (II 161-162) conjectures “Cypselus” to read tor “Sitalces" in order to offer an matched source in Herodotus. If he had been more cautious, he could have been bolder.

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humanity” in the prince that humiliated them. Trouble or error arises in sueh executions, Machiavelli continues, through imprudence or through lack of spirit; for one and the other of these two things beset you, and cause you, carried away by “that confusion of the brain,” to say or do what you ought not. To explain these failures Machiavelli hesitates like one of his conspirators be¬ tween lack of spirit and imprudence, and finally settles for “confusion of the brain.” If we remember the earlier discussion of discovering conspiracies through imprudence or faithlessness, we can see that lack of spirit replaces faithlessness, and infer that spirit (animo) is based on faith, in contrast to prudence based on know ledge of necessity. Since spirit is based on faith, it can be disarmed by reverence, which is inspired by a mixture or alternation of fear and grace such that one cannot tell which stops you.41 Machiavelli seems to admit that for some or most men at least, lack of spirit or cowardice cannot be reduced to impru¬ dence. It is a moral failing caused by the presence of the prince. But the presence of the^ prince, or reverence, is essential to morality, for if you knew what stopped you, or w hat inspiretTyou, you would have prudence and not need morality. Reverence eharges a tax on morality which must be paid w ith prudence, and so all men who are spirited or courageous beyond w hat is pru¬ dent can also be cowardly w hen it is prudent to kill the prince. Machiavelli uses a moral failing, cow ardice, to reveal the failing of morality as such in prudence or consistency; the moral man sooner or later finds himself w ith the eonfused brain of the conspirator who w as w illing to kill a Medici, but not in the church. Yet to this extent Machiavelli admits the reality of morality or conscience; he insists only that it is “confusion of the brain”—on the evidence, we may assume, of his ow n brain. Machiavelli next quotes Livy describing the state of mind of Alcxamenus (the one w ho took his soldiers supposedly to help, actually to kill, Nabis the Spartan tyrant) when he had to reveal his commission: “He himself had to gather his spirit, confused by the thought of so great an affair.” In Livy’s story, this remark about Alexamenus follows his exhortation to the soldiers to prepare their spirits; but Machiavelli will not be able to address his troops directly. Besides, he knows that there are some executions to w hich men of spirit cannot harden their spirits. One should trust only men experienced in managing great things, he says, not even men of firm spirit used to killing and to w ielding a knife, not even if reputed “very spirited.” As bad men do not know how to be altogether bad (I 27), so spirited men do not know how to be altogether spirited. For this confu¬ sion w ill cause them to drop the weapon from their hands, or to say something w hich has the same effect. For example, Lucilla, sister of Emperor Commodus, ordered Quintianus to kill him; but w aiting for Commodus at the entrance of the amphitheatre, Quin41. S., p. 196.

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tianus accosted him with a naked dagger and shouted: “The Senate sends you this!” These words caused him to be taken before he could strike. For another example, Antonio da Volterra, the replacement assigned to kill Lorenzo de’ Medici, when approaching him shouted “Ah, traitor!”—“which voice was the salvation of Lorenzo and the ruin of the conspiracy.” Thus can spirit betray a conspiracy, in each case the spirit of revenge. Why did these executioners not strike silently? They had to speak because revenge has to make itself know n to its victim, at whatever cost to prudence. But in this regard w e note a difference betw een the ancient and the modern example. Messer Antonio s words neces¬ sarily betrayed his intention, but those of Quintianus would have been innocent if not accompanied by the naked dagger. I Ic could have been holding out a merely ominous gift, such as a stickpin. This example suggests the possibility of showing one’s animo for the sake of revenge, while at the same time hiding it for the sake of prudence (see I 44), by shouting words w hich w ill seem innocent until after the execution is accomplished. As for the third danger, that of not completing the execution, Machiavelli becomes absorbed in the difficulty of conspiring against two chiefs or heads (capi), rather strangely in view of the general topic of conspiracy against “one prince,” unless one prince could have in a sense two heads. The difficulty or near-impossibility of conspiring against two chiefs consists in performing a similar action at the same time in different places. Fight examples follow. For the first, Machiavelli works himself to a high pitch of doubt so that he can say that only reverence for the historian called I lerodian would make him believe possible what he says of Plautianus. He says that Plautianus commissioned Saturninus the centurion to kill Severus and Antoninus by himself w hile they w ere living in different countries. “For there is a thing so far from the reasonable that anything other than this authority would not make me believe it.” In this profound obeisance w e are asked to observe “reverence” to a w riter after a very recent discussion of reverence to a prince. Farlier w e w ere told that Saturninus (w ith all respect, was he centurion or tribune?) betrayed Plautianus by getting him to put the commission in w riting, and that the two emperors were father and son. Here Machiavelli is so amazed at this implausible but ultimately be¬ lievable project that he places them in different countries (or places) when according to the revered Herodian they w ere in different rooms of the same palace.42 How could they be living in different countries if they were in the same palace? Next comes a conspiracy of “certain young Athenians” against Diodes and Hippias, tyrants of Athens. They killed Diodes, and Hippias, w ho escaped, avenged him. Again Machiavelli makes a mistake, substituting Diodes for Hip¬ parchus; and again he omits to mention the family tie, for Hipparchus and Hippias were brothers. He offers no reverence to Thucydides and Plato, w ho 42. W., II 162-163. T here is some doubt whether NM said paesi or luoghi, but the latter is as unbelievable as the former.

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wrote on this conspiracy; his present master is Herodian. In the third example, two disciples of Plato conspired against two tyrants (who are brothers but are not said to be), and killed one; again the remaining one avenged him. This is the thirty-ninth example in the chapter, and the only mention of Plato in the Discourses, as the teacher of two conspirators who failed. Then the Pazzi conspir¬ acy is again mentioned, and the fact that it was directed against two brothers is again not mentioned. Everyone should refrain from conspiring against “several heads,” we are told, for such conspiracies never do any good for oneself, for one’s fatherland, or for anyone. The remaining tyrants become more insupport¬ able than ever, as happened in the three preceding cases.43 To clinch the argument, Machiavelli brings up the conspiracy of Pelopidas to liberate his native Thebes, which, to be sure, ended most successfully, but should on no account be taken for “an example” by anyone. Pelopidas conspired not only against two tyrants but against ten, and not as a confidant of them but as a rebel. But he w as helped by one Charon, counselor of the tyrants, by whom he got easy entry for his “execution.” Yet this was an “impossible undertaking,” a “marvelous thing,” celebrated by the writers as a “rare thing and almost w ithout example.” In faet, Plutarch, the source of this story, remarks that the conspiracy was inspired by the example of Thrasybulus and known to the Greeks as the sister of that conspiracy; it w as “almost w ithout example,” but not quite.44 Plutarch celebrates the Pelopidan conspiracy as having begun the war w hich led to the ruin of the Spartan empire. This is the only example of conspiracies against several heads to which Machiavelli assigns the motive of liberating one’s fatherland. In the context he uses “example” in the two senses of precedent and model for imitation: w hat has been done before can and should be done now. But it w ill be easier to begin w ith the ten unrelated tyrants (there were only four according to Plutarch) than w ith pairs of tyrants in the same family. Having done w ith the danger of not completing conspiracies, Machiavelli— heeding his own advice—returns to the central part of his argument, the danger of lacking spirit, in order to complete the topic of dangers during execution. He says that executions can be “interrupted” by a false imagination or an unex¬ pected accident. False imagination is illustrated w ith an ancient example, and unexpected accident w ith a modern one. The morning that Brutus and the other conspirators were to kill Caesar, “it happened” that they saw Popilius, one of the conspirators, speaking at length w ith Caesar. They got ready, therefore, to kill him on the spot, instead of w aiting until he came to the Senate, but they were reassured when they saw7 that as the conversation ended, Caesar made no extraordinary motion. Sueh false imaginations must be prudently respected, Machiavelli says, and sententiously adds that he who has a stained conscience easily believes that others speak of him. “You” can hear a word spoken with 43. These are new examples because they are cited to support a new point. 44. Plutarch, Pelopidas 13.

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some other intention that disturbs your mind (animo) and makes you flee or hurry the deed; and this occurs the more easily when many are aware (conscii) of the conspiracy. Actually these ancient conspirators remained unperturbed, waiting for evidence of betrayal, and their execution went on as planned. Was their conscience stained with awareness of their own evil intent, or rather with a reasonable fear of being betrayed to the prince? Machiavelli comes back to the conscience after discussing the necessity of completing conspiracies against more than one head. Conscience in its traditional sense, we have noted, implies a punishing witness of guilty thoughts and actions, w ho must be the second object of every conspiracy that does not w ant to be prevented by lack of spirit. In regard to accidents, we are once more entertained w ith Luzio Belanti’s conspiracy against Pandolfo Petrucci, tyrant of Siena, the second example of the chapter now given “in its place." Pandolfo had given his daughter in marriage to Luzio, then taken her aw ay; and Luzio determined to kill him by waylaying him as he passed Luzio’s (or was his name Iulio?45) house. W hen Pandolfo ap¬ proached, and a signal had been given, he happened to meet a friend who stopped him, and as some of his attendants continued, they saw and heard the noise of arms, and discovered the ambush, w hich thereupon failed. For such accidents no remedy can be found, Machiavelli concludes, and yet it is very necessary to examine all that might occur and remedy them. 1 le will not aban¬ don his enterprise merely because this other son-in-law failed. Pandolfo escaped because he truly imagined w hat w as up (“the noise of arms having been seen and heard”), from which it might be falsely imagined that he led a charmed life. The two examples of seeing someone speak and of seeing and hearing (thus under¬ standing) the noise of arms surround Machiavelli’s statement on the “stained conscience,” addressed to “you” and making reference not to anything seen but solely to words that are heard. Conscience is the false imagination of an unex¬ pected accident which might discover and betray one’s intention, lo find rem¬ edies for such accidents is to overcome conscience. Dangers encountered after execution are reduced to one alone: failure to dispose of anyone w ho might avenge the dead prince. Thus, Machiavelli uses the last part of his argument on conspiracies against a prince to return to the difficulty of conspiring against more than one prince, the danger of not complet¬ ing the execution. As the dangers before execution w ere remedied by advancing the execution into the plotting, now the danger after execution is not to have completed the execution. Conspiracies are controlled by their execution, and so is government insofar as it is conspiratorial. Now, those remaining can be the dead prince’s brothers, sons, or other adherents with expectations (because you have deprived them not of their brother, father, or chief, but of the object of their expectations), either through your negligence or through the causes given above. This tells us that since one can be negligent in omitting to dispose of a 45. NM calls him Iulio, but surely knew better. \\ ., II 164; Bertelli, Opere 1 407; Mazzoni, “Sul testo dei ‘Discorsi’ del Machiavelli,” loc. cit., pp. 56-57.

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potential source of revenge, the difficulty of killing “several heads” may have been exaggerated. Lampugnano killed the Duke of Milan, but the one son and two brothers w ho were left were in time to avenge the killing. In sueh cases there is no remedy and the conspirators deserve to be excused, Machiavelli says. His dull summary omits two sensational details of this conspiracy which can be supplied from the Florentine Histories:46 the execution took place in a church, and as Lampugnano attempted to flee, he was caught up in the dresses of women and killed by a Moor who w as a page of the duke. None of the three prineipal conspirators was in fact avenged by a son or a brother or an adherent w ith expectations. This inapt example leaves a puzzle that can be solved by the next example, which is even more inapt, though quite splendid. Several conspirators from Forli killed their lord {loro signore) Count Girolamo and captured his wife and small children. So far so good; but since the con¬ spirators saw they must make themselves masters of the fortress, and the castel¬ lan would not give it to them, Madonna Caterina—“for so the countess was called”—promised them that if they let her enter the fortress she w ould have it surrendered to them, on surety of her children as hostages. “Under this faith” they let her go, but once inside she reproached them from the w all for the death of her husband, threatening them w ith every kind of revenge. And to show that she cared nothing for her children, she uncovered her genitals, saying that she had means to get more. Too late the conspirators realized their mistake, and they paid for their lack of prudence (or negligence) w ith perpetual exile. Machiavelli fondly tells this story also in The Prince and the Florentine His¬ tories■, though without that salient and pungent detail which is such an aid in understanding it.47 We begin by noting that Madonna Caterina, w ife of Count Girolamo, was also daughter of the Duke of Milan who was killed in the preceding example. After that execution, Machiavelli took the time to point out that one son and two brothers w ere left, but he overlooked the daughter. Now he scolds the conspirators at Forli for their inexcusable negligence in making the mistake of assuming that her love of her children was stronger than her desire for revenge. Why was the desire for revenge stronger in this case? It was supported by ambition, just as her loss of her children w as weakened, in these circumstances, by ambition. We remember the ambitious daughter of Servius Tullus who would rather have been queen than daughter of a king (III 4). But ambition can be found in anyone, relative or adherent of the prince or not, w ho has expectations of the principality; so the paramount danger after execution is overlooking not a vengeful relative but an expectant claimant. Machiavelli ends his discussion of conspiracies against the prince, as he began, w ith emphasis on the motive of revenge; but now he has resolved the desire for revenge from love of the executed prince into love of the vacated principality. One could rest w ith this conclusion if it were not apparent that Machiavelli 46. I.F. VII 34. 47. I.F. VIII 34; P. 20.

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has some particular conspiracy in mind, from which the vengeance of relatives is to be feared. We have no difficulty or hesitation in identifying Madonna (Kateri¬ na’s fortress w ith the fortresses he warned against in II 24, w here one of his examples was a fortress built by a Sforza and said to have been prized by the Sforzas. No doubt he now intends a certain worldly institution from w hose w alls women shout their revenge, which betrays its children because it has the means to get more, anti w hich even in these respects w ill be imitated by a prudent enemy. Of all dangers after execution there is none more certain, nor more to be feared, than when the people are friendly to the prince you have killed. So Maehiavelli concludes the first great division of this chapter, citing the example of Caesar. Caesar was avenged by the Roman people, which drove the con¬ spirators from Rome and w ere the cause why all w ere killed in various times and places. Plutarch, the source of this phrase, attributes the cause to Caesar’s guardian genius rather than to the Roman people.48 Rut it is to the people that the w eak and disarmed w ill look as the instrument of revenge, and Maehiavelli, w ith a longer perspective than Plutarch, can suggest a connection betw een the people’s revenge for Caesar and Madonna (Katerina’s capability for getting more children. At the same time he effects a transition to the topic of conspiracies against the fatherland, for Caesar succeeded in such a conspiracy (I 10, 17). Conspiracies against the fatherland, Maehiavelli begins, are less dangerous for the conspirators than those against the prince; in managing them there is less danger, in executing them the danger is the same, and afterward there is no danger. 11c continues this comparison throughout the relatively short considera¬ tion of the other side of the main division in the chapter, for his purpose is not to advise men how to conspire against their fatherland, but to compare his own conspiracy flggjqsr the prinry with a particular conspiracy against the fathcrland, that of Christianity. 11 is apparently general treatment of the topic, we shall see, follow s a course determined by his ow n interest in it; Maehiavelli has an axe to grind. In managing conspiracies against the fatherland, he says, the dangers are not many because a single citizen can rise to pow er through his plans (ordini) w ith¬ out revealing his mind (,animo) and design to anyone. We note the use of ordini to refer to “private deliberations. ” If his plans are “interrupted” by certain laws, he can bide his time and try some other way. I le can try them, that is, in a republic that is partly corrupt, because in an uneorrupt republic, where there is no room for evil to begin, these thoughts cannot occur in one of its citizens. Maehiavelli has not previously defined an uneorrupt republic so strictly (I 16-18), and his words now seem hardly applicable to a republic in this world. He shifts from conspiracies against the “fatherland” to those against a “republic” to indicate that his conspiracy against the prince is not necessarily against his fatherland, 48. Plutarch, Caesar 69.

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despite the distinction between prince and fatherland that has seemed to prevail in the chapter. Thus citizens can aspire to the principality with many means and in many ways, he continues, because republics (not only corrupt republics) are slower than a prince (I 59), suspect less and are therefore less cautious, and have more respect for their great citizens—three ways of making the latter bolder and more spirited against them. For instance, everyone has read the conspiracy of Catiline written by Sallust, and knows that when the conspiracy was discovered, Catiline not only stayed in Rome but came to the Senate and spoke abusingly to the Senate and the consul; such was the respect that city had for its citizens. Considering what Machiavelli had said in I 10 about the methods of free w riters, we can interpret w hat everyone has read about Catiline to be w hat everyone knows about Caesar or to be what everyone has read about one of Caesar’s successors. When Catiline had left Rome, Machiavelli adds, Lentulus and some others would never have been taken if letters in their handw riting had not plainly incriminated them (note again that writing must be in handw riting to be incriminating). For another instance, Machiavelli mentions Hanno, a very great citizen in Carthage who aspired to tyranny. He had planned to poison the entire Senate at his daughter’s w edding and make himself prince, for to be prince will suffice for one who aspires to tyranny. When this became known, the Senate made no other provision than to pass a law7 setting limits on the expenses of banquets and w eddings, such was their respect for his qualities. These could be tw o cases of prudence in the Senate, the first in allowing Catiline to reveal his animus and the second in not revealing its ow n against Hanno (see I 44); and certainly both conspiracies ended badly for the conspirators. But they also go to show how easily manifest ambition can make ways for itself, w hether aided by true or by feigned respect. The techniques of conspiracy and indirect govern¬ ment do not exclude walking in by the front door. In executing a conspiracy against the fatherland the difficulty is more and dangers are greater because rarely do your own forces suffice against so many; everyone is not prince of his ow n army as w ere Caesar, Agathocles, Cleomenes, and others who seized their fatherland “at one stroke and with their own forces.” For them the way is very easy and very secure, but others must make their w ay “either with deceit and art or w ith foreign forces.” As for deceit and art, we are referred to the example of Pisistratus, who gained the favor {grazia) of the people by conquering the Megarians, and then came out one morning wounded, saying that the nobility had injured him through envy and asking for armed men to guard him (see I 28). By this “authority” he easily rose to such greatness that he became tyrant of Athens. Also Pandolfo Petrucci became prince by accepting the menial post49 of “guard of the piazza” after others had refused it, and using the reputation he gained from having these armed men. Clearly the alternative to “foreign forces” is the use of deceit and art to gain one’s 49. cosa mecanica: cf. the cose mecaniche in w hich Tarquinius tired the plebs, III 5.

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own forces. Machiavelli promises better results from this alternative than from “one’s ow n forces” or “armies,” which have had varied success aceording to fortune. Catiline failed; Hanno, having failed with his poison scheme, armed thousands of his partisans, and he and they were killed. Some of the first citizens of Thebes, to make themselves tyrants, called in the Spartan army, and succeeded. Machiavelli omits to mention that Hanno was killed by being crucified, so greatly was he respected by his republic. I Ie also armed slaves, as Catiline gathered an army of irregulars.50 By the confusion of deceit and art, foreign forces and one’s own forces, an underlying identity of the three is indicated, an identity of w hich Christianity took the fullest advantage. With deceit and art it was able to use foreign forces as its own, and the reader can make the necessary translation of the examples. Machiavelli says that after execution, these conspiracies have the dangers to which the nature of the princi¬ pality is subject in itself, which are the natural and ordinary dangers of tyranny; and they have the remedies already discussed. I le quickly concludes this topic by returning to the discussion at the beginning of the chapter, advising the prince to avoid injuring particular individuals, from w hich he had begun his complicated advice to conspirators against the prince. Living after the successful execution of a conspiracy against the fatherland is the modern situation. “This is how much it occurs to me to write about conspiracies.” But Machiavelli has some concluding remarks which again must be explained by the requirements of his ow n enterprise. He apologizes for considering only those conspiracies that are done with steel, and not those done w ith poison. Those done with poison are more dangerous for being more uncertain, because not everyone has opportunity for them and they must be delegated; this necessity to delegate them makes danger for “you.” Besides, a drink of poison may not be fatal, as happened in the case of Commodus, w ho vomited his poison and had to be strangled. Now Machiavelli has in fact recently mentioned a conspiracy attempted by poison, that of Hanno, and the need to delegate has also been discussed as the need to find men of spirit or rather men of experience. W e would be hard put to explain why the omission of poison, if it is an omission, requires an apology, unless we could understand this chapter as a long drink of poison, and Machiavelli as a poisoner advertising his need of experienced stranglers. A conspiracy is dangerous for a prince, he says, because it either kills or disgraces him. If it succeeds, he dies; if he discovers it and kills the con¬ spirators, it will always be believed that the conspiracy was invented by the prince to vent his avarice and cruelty on the blood and property of those w hom he killed.51 This is how Machiavelli’s poison w ill operate, succeeding even w hen not succeeding; and no doubt it w ill be believed that his conspiracy is nothing but an invention of the prince, and his books innocent of evil or even serious intent. The last topic of the chapter is a w arning to the prince or republic conspired 50. Plutarch, Cicero 16. 51. See I F. VIII 1.

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against, which (we shall see) amounts to advice on how a government should comport itself in regard to the Christian conspiracy. When a conspiracy be¬ comes known to the prince or republic, he says, it should, before undertaking to “avenge” it, seek to understand its “quality” very well, measure well the condi¬ tions of the conspirators and itself, and if it finds them great and powerful, it should never uncover them until it has prepared itself with forces sufficient to crush it. On the contrary, it should dissimulate what it knows with every artifice because conspirators w ho see themselves discovered and pursued by necessity, act “without respect.” The warning addressed to a government weaker than the conspiracy against it could also apply to private men who have discovered the conspiracy. It is illustrated w ith the example of the Romans in Capua discussed several times in Book II and twice (II 20, 26) promised lengthy treatment here. After the Romans left two legions to guard the Capuans against the Samnites, the heads of these legions conspired together to oppress the Capuans. This became know n in Rome, and the new consul Rutilus was commissioned to see to the matter. To put the conspirators to sleep, he publicized a report that the Senate had renew ed the tour of duty of the Capuan legions (now' “Capuan” because corrupted by the Capuans? II 20). The soldiers, now believing they had time to execute their design, did not quicken the matter but remained as they were until they saw the consul separating them from each other, which made them suspicious and caused them to uncover their w ish and put it into execu¬ tion. There could be no greater example from either side, Machiavelli says, because from this one sees how slow men are when they believe they have time, and how quick when pursued by necessity. Being slow rests on a belief but being quick does not; so the conclusion is that a prince or a republic that wants to defer uncovering a conspiracy for its advantage can use no better means than to offer a near opportunity to the conspirators. They will w ait for it, thinking they have time, and thus give time to the prince or republic to punish them. We w ere told above that man can govern himself if he has time; one can get time by making others believe they have it, for example, by a false promise to rebellious legions that they w ill keep their posts. Those Roman legions w ere conspiring to oppress the Capuans. Their con¬ spiracy does not quite fit the grand division of conspiracies into those against the prince and those against the fatherland, both of which are presented as a liberation—a purging of revenge or freeing of the fatherland against the prince, and a tyrannical assertion against one’s fatherland. Christianity is a conspiracy that remains a conspiracy after it succeeds because of its “new mode of ruling” (II 21, used in the context of the same example), its indirect government. It is a conspiracy against the fatherland, but against the fatherland as such: this world; hence a conspiracy against man’s assertiveness, a conspiracy to oppress. Machiavelli’s advice, then, is to bide your time. He cites two examples of Florentines w ho seized conspirators too soon. The Duke of Athens, tyrant of

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Florence, learned of a conspiracy against himself, and without examining the matter further, had one of the conspirators taken; this caused the others to seize arms and take aw ay his power. Guglielmo dc’ Pazzi, the Florentine commis¬ sioner in Val di Chiana in 1501, did the same w hen he heard of a conspiracy to take Arezzo from Florence; he acted “w ithout thinking about the forces of the conspirators, or about his forces, with the advice of his son the bishop,” and he ended a prisoner. But weak conspiracies, we are assured, can and should be crushed “without respect.” One should not imitate in any way two methods contrary to each other: one used by the duke of Athens, who to show that he believed that he had the good w ill of the Florentine citizens, had killed someone w ho revealed a conspiracy to him; the other used by Dion of Syracuse, w ho to test the intention (animo) of someone he suspected, consented that Callipus, whom he trusted, pretend to make a conspiracy against him. Both ended badly, because the duke took aw ay spirit from accusers and gave it to conspirators, and because Dion made himself the head of the conspiracy against himself; for Callipus, thus enabled to “practice” against Dion “w ithout respect,” practiced so well that he took away his power and his life. Machiavelli had warned against testing conspirators. But he has devised a method of testing them so that they cannot accuse him; his book is a pretended conspiracy which becomes real by tempting men, first to pretend to conspire, then to conspire in private, and last to execute in public.52 Fven the pretending, how ever, is an involvement in the crime; so the reader seeking to understand the book by entering into its spirit, hence pretending to agree merely in order to grasp w hat it says, w ill not report Machiavelli to the authorities. And even if he does, the worldly authorities, refusing to imitate the foolish duke of \thens, w ill honor him for accusing conspirators, as he does throughout this chapter, and above all for accusing the comprehensive modern conspiracy against them¬ selves. They w ill honor him sufficiently only if they realize that only he has the spirit or the experience to act against it “without respect.” The otherworldly authority, spelled Dione, has made itself the head of the conspiracy against itself by allowing Machiavelli’s pretended conspiracy, or by suggesting it; for

III 7

Machiavelli learned the technique of government by conspiracy from the reli¬ gion that implicates all men in one homicide, binds them w ith their involve¬ ment, and rules them w ith absolutions or excuses (I 29).53 After conspiracies, the topic of the hundredth chapter is changes of regime, described dramatically as changes from liberty to slavery and from slavery to liberty. These changes are restated in the first sentence in reverse as from free life to tyrannical and the contrary. Some of them come about “w ithout blood,” others are full of it; or, as one learns from the histories, in some, countless men are killed, and in others, no one is injured, for example, the change Rome made from kings to consuls in w hich the Iarquins w ere expelled. This change w as 52. “Execute” occurs forty times in various forms in 111 6, animo twenty-five times (S., p. 333n59). 53. I F. VI 29-30.

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not an injury, apparently, because it was not bloody. The difference, Machiavelli explains, depends on whether the state that is changed came into existence with violence or not. If it did, many must have been injured, and they will necessarily wish to avenge themselves at the demise of that state. But when the state is “caused by a common consensus of a universality that made it great,” there is no cause to harm other than the chief {capo) when that “universality” is ruined. Or the “universality” has no cause to harm anyone but the chief; Machiavelli’s syntax is purposely perplexed to reflect the confusion of responsi¬ bility between the chief and the “universality.”54 But in either case there is a state {stato) of a universality, of “the said universality,” not of the whole. Machiavelli cites again the expulsion of the Tarquins, and adds the fall of the Medici in Florence in 1494, as examples of unbloody changes. Such changes do not turn out very dangerous, but changes made by those who have to avenge themselves are very dangerous, and enough to frighten whoever reads of them. But Machiavelli, who does not frighten readers unnecessarily and does not wish to frighten them at all in this context, merely says he will omit these examples because the histories are full of them. Among such histories would be the Bible (I 26; III 30). This chapter, w hich has been called the typical chapter in the Discourses,55 typically contains peculiarities that raise problems. Although the chapter head¬ ing refers to changes from slavery to liberty and the reverse, the text makes no use of that distinction in considering w hether the changes w ere bloody or not. Implicitly we are led in a certain direction, however, because the two examples are changes from slavery to liberty, though not so described. Since (according to Machiavelli’s explanation) the Tarquins and Medici were expelled without bloodshed because they began w ithout violence, we are induced to think of a slavery that began w ithout violence. Moreover, the explanation of bloodless change as depending on a nonviolent beginning does not accord w ith the need of every new state to begin with a memorable execution, announced not so long ago in III 3. It might seem that the memorable violence of executing the chief is, as it were, nonviolence w hen compared to the killing of countless men, but that “nonviolence” is memorable, and Machiavelli stresses here the nonviolence that leaves no vengeful memory. In III 3 the very examples used in parallel here were given as contraries, the prudent ancients opposed to the imprudent moderns. For the “change Rome made from kings to consuls” w as the founding of the Roman republic, made secure by the killing of Brutus’ sons, and the ruin of the Medici in 1494 pre¬ ceded the coming to pow er of the inadequate Piero Soderini and of Machiavelli. Once reminded of III 3, we can recall II 2, where freedom w as identified with the ancients and slavery with the moderns. From a slavery that began without 54. Allan Gilbert takes the meaning one way, Chief Works of Machiavelli, 3 vols. (Durham, N.C., 1965), I 448; Puppo takes it the other, Opere politiche, p. 539nl. 55. S., pp. 90-91, 305n58.

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violence we are promised a bloodless revolution without a memorable execution and without vengeance.56 Machiavelli here distinguishes his enterprise from the model he imitates. But since it is Machiavelli’s state, is the change from free life to tyrannical or the contrary or both (compare III 6, beg.)? “Whoever wishes to alter a republic should consider its subject matter \suggetto]" is the next topic. To illustrate the importance of subject matter Machiavelli offers two examples of premature attempts at enslaving the Roman republic, thus taking up the change from liberty to slavery that he had failed to consider in the preceding chapter. But at the end, he turns around to apply the lesson to liberating not merely an enslaved people but a people that wishes to live enslaved (see I 16). Liberators can learn from the failures of enslavers, we shall see, if they can be taught to examine the subject matter, w hich is an aptness for change in a state that is neutral as to the direction of change. It has been explained above, Machiavelli begins, that a w icked citizen cannot do evil in an uncorrupt republic. Actually he had said in III 6 that the thought of conspiring against his country cannot occur to a citizen of an uneorrupt repub¬ lic. Retreating from this extreme, he now discusses two wicked citizens of Rome. Spurius Cassius, the first, was an ambitious man w ho w ished to seize extraordinary authority in Rome and to gain over the plebians by dividing among them the fields the Romans hat! taken from the Hernici, and also by offering them the money from the sale of grain that the public had imported from Sicily. But the “Fathers” uncovered this ambition of his, anti brought it under such suspicion with the people that they refused the money, since they supposed Spurius w ished to give them the price of their liberty. If such a people had been corrupt, they would not have refused that offer and would have opened the way to tyranny, Machiavelli concludes. Did they refuse the land, however? Livy said that this w as the first appearance of the Agrarian law w hich from that time w as never proposed w ithout causing the greatest agitation;57 and in I 37 Machiavelli had used the same incident to comment severely on the unnecessary ambition of the plebs after it had satisfied its legitimate fears w ith the creation of the tribunes. Moreover, he suggests in II 7 that the plebs was more easily bribed by the promise of land than by the offer of money from the sale of grain. A much greater example is that of Manlius Capitolinus, Machiavelli says; for in him one can see how much “virtue of spirit and body”58 (not virtue of soul?), how many good works done for his native country were canceled by an “ugly lust for rule.” Manlius was envious of the honors gained by Camillus, and so blinded in his mind that, forgetting the way of living in his city and not “exam56. On the “economy of violence” see Sheldon S. Wolin, Politics and Vision (Boston, 1960), p. 223; but NM’s own particular economy is not featured. 57. Livy, II 41. 3. 58. The expression is applied similarly to Agathocles, P. 8, who accompanied his crimes “with so much virtue of spirit and body.” See also l.F. VI 6.

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ining its subject matter,” which was not yet fit to receive a wicked form, he set out to raise tumults in Rome against the Senate and his country’s law s. The result revealed the “perfection of that city and the goodness of its material” (compare I 2): no one of the nobility made a move to favor him; his relatives did not appear in his behalf, meanly clad, dressed in black, as w as customary in order to gain pity for the accused (“dressed in black” is Machiavelli’s moderniza¬ tion of Livy59); the tribunes, contrary to their custom, united w ith the nobles against this “common pest”; and the people of Rome, w hen the tribunes put Manlius’ cause before them, became judge instead of defender, and “without any respect” condemned him to death. Livy’s account is again more Machiavellian than Machiavelli’s and lays em¬ phasis on the management of the trial by the nobles and the tribunes, but Machiavelli says “I do not believe” there is any example in this history more suited to show' the goodness of all that republic’s orders than this one. He says that their goodness had the strength to defend itself against a “citizen full of every virtue”; or rather, the people’s love of their country was more powerful than any other “respect,” so that they considered present dangers for w hich Manlius w as responsible before his past merits. Thus goodness is stronger than virtue on condition that it be transferred into patriotism and then learn, or be taught by virtuous men, the necessity of ingratitude (see I 24 on Manlius). Machiavelli makes no mention here of the law on accusation, the feature of his discussion of Manlius in I 8, where he had made no mention of the need to “examine the subject matter.” The earlier discussion had ended a series of chapters on the regime (I 2-8), and first introduced the difference between the ancients and the moderns. Now that difference has been revealed as “subject matter” that can be overcome only by a difficult “enterprise.” It is Machiavelli’s particular enterprise that requires this new discussion of the material of I 16-18. Machiavelli quotes Livy’s verdict on Manlius that such w as the end of a man who would have been memorable if he had not been born in a free regime (at least Manlius’ execution was memorable, as we recall from III 1). From this he says two things are to be considered: first, that one must seek glory in a corrupt city through other means than in a city still “living politically,”60 second (w hich he says is almost the same as the first), that especially in great actions men must consider the times and accomodate themselves to them. The first point directs us to the modern situation, in which corruption takes the form of an attack on political life (II 2), the second indicates the difficulty of seeking glory in that situation. Those, he continues, w ho out of bad choice or natural inclination live out of harmony with their times are usually unhappy, and their actions have a bad outcome; and the contrary occurs w ith those in harmony with their times. “Without doubt” one may conclude that if Manlius had been born in the times of Sulla and Marius, where the material was already corrupt, he could have 59. Livy, VI 20. 2-3. 60. On this phrase see Marsilius of Padua, Defensor pads 113. 2; also D I 6, 18, 25, 55; II pr.

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impressed the form of his ambition on it, and had the same results and successes as Marius and Sulla, “and the others after them who aspired to tyranny.” Machiavelli goes out of his w ay to mention the unsuccessful Marius and Sulla, and thus pretends he must avoid mentioning the name of Caesar (compare I 37), when the true danger is nearby but elsew here; and he implies that even in concordant times success is prepared by failure. A man can begin to corrupt a city “with his modes and bad measures,” but one life cannot be long enough to corrupt it so that he can have the profit (compare I 17). Kven if it w ere possible to do it “w ith length of time,” it would be impossible because of the mode of proceeding of men, who are impatient and cannot long defer a passion of theirs. This difficulty of an “enterprise against the times” arises, w e see, not out of a man’s bad choice or natural inclination, but out of the proceedings of “men.” Yet there is a remedy. 1 le who wishes to seize authority in a republic and put a wicked form61 on it, must find its material disordered by time, which happens of necessity, as was said above (III 1), w hen it is not refreshed by good examples and with new laws brought back to its beginnings. Machiavelli repeats that Manlius would have been a rare and memorable man if he had been born in a corrupt city, but the context now implies that he would have been rare and memorable (despite his “uglv lust for rule”) for leading it back to uncorrupt freedom (I 10). Machiavelli then says that citizens undertaking any enterprise in a republic, w hether in favor of liberty or tyranny, must “consider the subject matter they have, and judge from that the difficulty of their enterprise. For to w ish to free a people that wishes to live enslaved is as difficult and dangerous as to w ish to enslave a people that w ishes to live in freedom.” We are explicitly reminded that good orders crumble with time, and that goodness must be refreshed w ith virtue, but as the power of goodness is diminished, so is the recalcitrance of “subject matter.” Subject matter appears to be the material of the “times,” not at all self-subsistent “substance,” and a man patient enough to wait for glory after his times and prudent enough to let others take the profit can have, so to speak, a “very long life” (I 17) in managing an “enterprise against the times.” Machiavelli had compared himself to Manlius’ enemy Camillus in II 29, the man on whom fortune bestow ed the opportunity7 of freeing Rome from the French. Machiavelli w ill have a longer w ait for his honors than Camillus, and there is no power that will silence (I 8) or execute (III 1) his enemies; but he can learn from them the dangers of premature rebellion and the necessity of patience. The chapter concludes by leading in the next, w here Machiavelli promises “we shall speak at length” about considering the qualities of times and proceed¬ ing according to them. Considering the subject matter is considering the times, which is considering “how one should change w ith the times if one w ishes alw ays to have good fortune.” The patience advised in III 8 gives w ay to a more 61. This is three uses of “form” in one chapter, w hen The Prince and Discourses taken together show “form” only fourteen times. The three forms in III 8 are wicked or ambitious.

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optimistic and active outlook, for who does not wish always to have good fortune? Machiavelli begins this chapter, as he does thirteen chapters, with the first person: “I have considered.” He thus associates his considering with the new outlook, and his capability with the possibility of changing with the times. To do so one must become a “captain”; and chapters 9-15 of Book III are about the captain. This chapter provides the transition from founder, considered in III 1-8, to captain, or to founder-captain,62 because the first section of chapters, III 1-15, combines the discussion of Book I on the founder with that of Book II on militia. The “cause” of bad and good fortune is to make one’s mode of proceeding agree with the times; for some men proceed with haste, others with respect and caution, and in the one or the other of these ways they exceed the proper limits, unable to observe the “true way.” We note that the true way (II 2, 19) is a middle way in the sense of combining two extremes (II 23). But one errs less, Machiavelli says, when one agrees with the times and always proceeds “as nature forces you.” Is “nature” one’s own nature here, or the times? Machiavelli now brings up Fabius, the Roman captain whom everyone knows proceeded respectfully and cautiously with his army, far removed (discosto) from all im¬ petuosity and Roman audacity. He had used the formula “everyone knows” in I 56 w hen interpreting signs; now', in this chapter and the following, he is inter¬ preting the good fortune of Fabius. When Hannibal, “young and w ith fresh fortune,” came to Italy and twice defeated the Roman people, that republic could not have received better fortune than to have a captain like Fabius; nor could he have found times more agreeable to his ways. Fabius owed his good fortune, we perceive, to the fresh fortune of Hannibal, for the “times” were nothing other than this; but Hannibal’s fortune accorded with his youth or time of life, w hich is perhaps less dependent on the times.63 Meanwhile, the Roman republic had to pay dearly for the good fortune of both Hannibal and Fabius, and its “better fortune,” such as it w as, w as caused by the good fortune of the two captains. In II 9 we were told the second Punic war was planned by Hannibal, and it was indicated that though the first Punic w ar began by chance, it could have been planned. That Fabius acted as he did by nature and not by choice one sees from his opposition to Scipio’s proposal to end the w ar by attacking the Carthaginians in Africa (see II 12). Fabius w as unable to depart from “his modes and his custom”; if it had been up to him, Hannibal would still be in Italy. Machiavelli does not mention the jealousy Fabius might have had for Scipio’s “rash enterprise” w hich is featured in the debate between them before the Senate as related by Livy.64 While in I 53 he said that such enterprises as Scipio’s always appeal to the people, implying danger to a republic, he now' uses the example to illustrate the 62. S., p. 316n44. 63. P. 25. 64. Livy, XXVIII 40^t4.

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superiority of a republic. If Fabius had been “king of Rome,” he could easily have lost the war for not knowing how to change his proceeding as the times changed; but since he was born in a republic where there were diverse citizens and diverse humors (see I 4), that republic had him for times requiring that the war be sustained, and also Scipio when the times were apt for winning. We may guess that diverse citizens are supported by diverse humors, Scipio’s boldness by the people and Fabius’ caution by the Senate. Thus, concludes Machiavelli, a republic has a longer life and good fortune for a longer time than a principality, because with its diversity of citizens it can accommodate itself to diverse times better than a prince. For one man, accustomed to proceed in one way, never changes, “as w as said”; and so when times change in disformity w ith his way, he is of necessity ruined. Then Machiavelli gives examples of two diverse men in modern times, Piero Sodcrini, w ho proceeded w ith humanity and patience in all his affairs, and Pope' Julius II, w ho proceeded in the whole time of his pontificate w ith impetuosity and fury. Piero and his fatherland prospered while the times conformed to the w ay of his proceeding, but as times came w hen he had to break w ith his patience and humility (in such times humility w as no longer humanity; see 141), he did not know how, and so he together w ith his fatherland w as ruined. Pope Julius II, it is true, succeeded in all his enterprises, but only because the times were w ith him; and in other times he would have been ruined of necessity.65 These examples surely blur the contrast between republic and principality, for Piero was chief man in a republic that fell because he w as unable to change his w ays (1 52; III 3), and Pope'Julius II w as elected to a pontificate w ith an average term of ten years, and was replaced with a pope venerated for “his goodness and infinite other virtues” {The Prince, chap. 1 1). Although a republic may in general be more durable than a principality because it has more diversity, this diversity does not guarantee unchanging good fortune. It remains true that Fabius, as captain if not king, could easily have lost the w ar (see II 12); and Machiavelli must return to the difficulty of changing w ith the times for one individual. There are two causes, he says, that we do not change: w e cannot oppose that to w hich nature inclines us; and one (a shift to the singular) w ho has prospered greatly in one way of proceeding cannot be persuaded to proceed otherwise. From these arise changing fortune in one man, and also the ruin of cities, for not changing the orders of republics w ith the times, “as has been discussed at length above” (III 1). Republics are slow er because they have more trouble in changing (see I 59). Times must come that change the whole republic, for w hich “one alone” changing his way of proceeding is not enough. The seeming contradic¬ tion between the statements that republics accommodate themselves better to diverse times and that they have more trouble in changing can be resolved by 65. P. 25 (also on changing with the times) features Julius II; D. Ill 9 features Fabius. I he lesson is the same but it is directed in one version to the man in a hurry, in the other to the man who must temporize.

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referring to the difficulty of changing the “whole republic” as opposed to meet¬ ing crises. Perhaps since Machiavelli has turned to modern examples, he means the difficulty of changing the “Christian republic.” Changing the whole republic would require changing with the times by one individual, the one who is to bring about the new modes and orders. As to this possibility, Machiavelli has himself changed his opinion. He began by saying that “nature forces you,” then softened nature’s force to an inclination, added the possibility of choosing or being persuaded otherwise, and described the cause of not changing as a mode of proceeding. He said that one man accus¬ tomed to proceed in one mode never changes, but he blamed Fabius, Piero Soderini, and Pope Julius II for not changing and closed w ith the remark that one alone who changes his mode of proceeding is not enough. The cause of changing fortune is one’s unehanging nature; so the task of overcoming one’s changing fortune is that of overcoming one’s unchanging nature,66 or the human nature that can be identified with the “subject matter” of III 8. Overcoming human nature is like fighting an enemy, and Machiavelli as alw ays understands this enterprise to be political: changing the republic. Some men are impetuous, others are cautious. Their natures can be redefined as diverse modes of proceed¬ ing, and mixed in the orders of a republic by one who knows how to vary his mode of proceeding. Machiavelli ends III 9 by announcing that having mentioned Fabius, who kept delaying Hannibal, he will consider in the next chapter w hether a captain who w ishes to have battle “in every mode” with the enemy can be hindered by it from doing so. But in III 10, the question is turned around. Machiavelli delivers his third sermon on the statement that a captain cannot escape battle when his adversary wishes to have it “in every mode.” With this reversal of standpoint the question is apparently answered in the affirmative, and the possibility of offering battle “in every mode,” despite the difficulty of changing one’s mode of proceeding, is disclosed. How ean one offer battle “in every mode”? To have battle in every mode one must fight over time, that is, beyond one’s ow n time. Now' a man may extend himself beyond his ow n time by the use of his authority, and this chapter is on the use made of authority. It begins with a Livy quotation that tells w hy the dictator Gaius Sulpicius dragged out the w ar against the Gauls and refused to entrust himself to fortune against an enemy whom time and an alien setting w ere daily weakening. Machiavelli then opens his discussion at a respectful distance from the quotation, and speaks of an error by w hich all men or most deceive themselves, the error in “actions concerning great things” that do not conform to those of ancient times. He does not believe it bad to reprove this error many time, he says; so he makes a point of the difficulty of keeping up the “ancient orders” in modern times. 66. Letter 119, Opere VI, 231.

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Modern men deviate from these orders especially in military actions, because they give over this care to others. If indeed one sometimes sees a “king of our times go out in person”67 to war, one does not therefore believe that from this other modes arise that merit more praise; for this exercise is done only for pomp. Yet by reviewing their armies in occasional visits and keeping the title of power near themselves, the kings make fewer errors than the republics, especially the Italian, which trust in others and understand nothing of war,68 yet decide on it so as to appear to be “their prince.” Thus modern kings or a modern king does fight with his army laudably, but republics make a thousand errors, and Machiavelli will not be silent here about a very important one. When “these lazy princes and effeminate republics” (for the king that fights in person is a special king) send out a captain of theirs, the w isest commission they think to give him is above all to stay out of battle. T his they do thinking to imitate the prudence of Fabius, w ho saved Rome by deferring combat. Thus Machiavelli proposes to discuss the greatest defect of modern orders as it supposedly appears in the misinterpretation of Fabius’ prudence. I Ie does not so much reprove “trusting others”—for authority is necessary to all men or most—as mistaking the author¬ ity of Fabius. “The majority of the time,” Machiavelli says, the commission to avoid battle is null or harmful. Machiavelli repeats his chapter heading: “A captain cannot escape battle whenever the enemy wants to have it in every mode.” Such a commission is nothing other than to say, “do battle at the convenience of the enemy and not at your ow n.” We must wonder whether this trenchant critique is directed at the misunderstood authority of Fabius or at the rather more powerful authority in modern times that tells men to turn the other cheek, which is similarly misunderstood. A captain who stays in the field and does not fight, Machiavelli continues, has no other remedy than to put himself at a distance (discosto) of at least fifty miles from the enemy and to retain good spies so that should the enemy come closer, you have time to w ithdraw. Another policy—there is another, or is it the same?—is to shut yourself in the city. Rut then are you in the field? Both policies are very harmful. W ith the first you leave the eountry prey to the enemy, but a valiant prince w ill sooner try the fortune of battle than lengthen the war w ith sueh harm to his subjects. With the second you must take refuge with your army in a city, where you will be besieged and forced by hunger to surrender. These policies describe the inadequate measures of Machiavelli’s fellow op¬ ponents of Christianity, who strangely follow the counsel to turn the other cheek. But they do not understand what “Fabius” did. It w as not that Fabius avoided battle, but rather that he wished to have it at his advantage. Hannibal did not dare come to Fabius and fight in his “mode”; so battle w as avoided by Hannibal just as by Fabius. If one of them had wished to have battle “in every 67. P. 5, 12. 68. P. 3 (end); NM agrees with the Cardinal of Rouen.

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mode,” the other would have had only three remedies: the two mentioned above, or to flee. To flee! That is the remedy denied in the ehapter heading, and the other remedies were said to be very harmful policies. It appears that a captain can escape battle, because no one cares to fight on unfavorable ground, and so no one fights “in every mode” at one time. Such a “mode” is relative to the times. Machiavelli must have in mind extended fighting that takes place at different times when he denies that a captain can avoid battle if attacked in every mode. One special example of a thousand that could be given is that of Philip of Macedonia in his war w ith the Romans. When attacked, he decided not to come to battle and placed himself w ith his army on top of a mountain. But the Romans dared to attack him and chased him from that mountain; he fled and saved w hat he did save because the difficulty (iniquita) of the country kept the Romans from pursuing. Thereafter Philip, having learned from experience that staying on mountains would not be enough to keep him from fighting, and not w ishing to shut himself up in cities, took the other mode of staying many miles aw ay from the Roman camp. If the Romans were in one province, he left for another; and if they left, he entered. Thus lengthening the war, he saw that conditions were worsening and decided to try his fortune w ith a fair fight (giornata giusta). Machiavelli departs from Livy’s account and fails to mention that Philip w as defeated.69 We may take his account as further description of the adventures and expedients of his fellow' opponents of Christianity. Then he says it is useful not to fight w hen armies are in the condition of Fabius’ army or “now” of Gaius (or “Gneus”) Sulpicius’ army, that is, an army so good that the enemy does not dare come to find you in your fortresses (compare II 24). He requotes Livy in such a way as to attribute Gaius Sulpicius’ thought to Livy himself.70 Gaius Sulpicius seems to be alive “now,” though he was dead long before Fabius lived, because he lives in the written thoughts of Livy. To flee like Philip, Machiavelli says, is like being defeated, and w ith as much more shame the less you have tried your virtue. No one could deny that Hanni¬ bal was a “master of war” (maestro: both expert and teacher71), and if he had seen some advantage to lengthening the war w hen he came to fight Scipio in Africa, he would have done so. Since he did not, one must assume some important cause moved him (this is how experts teach without speeches). For a prince w ho sees that he cannot hold his army together for a long time, through lack of money (compare II 10) or friends, is “completely mad” not to try his fortune in battle. But if he can hold his army together, and the enemy is weakening, w ould he not be equally mad to risk battle? In II 10 Machiavelli said that a captain loses “in every mode” if he flees instead of fighting, but only if he is forced to fight or flee. A prince like Machiavelli holds his army together with the authority of a 69. Livy, XXXIII 7-8. 70. S., pp. 157, 324nl64. 71. On Hannibal’s authority, see D. II 12, 18.

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writer, which gives him a kind of life after death and the means of attending his army, as it were, in person. In this way he can fight irresistibly, in every mode; he can overcome the differences of modes by overcoming the differences of times, above all, the differences between ancient and modern times. Machiavelli brings up “another thing ’: one should w ish to acquire glory even while losing, and one gets more glory from being conquered by force than by some inconvenience. Hannibal must have been constrained by this necessity. But if Hannibal had deferred battle,72 Scipio after his many conquests in Africa would not have let him remain secure and in ease as he had been in Italy. So the result to Hannibal was not the same as when he opposed Fabius, nor as w hen the French opposed Sulpicius. I lannibal w as at last forced to fight w hen he and his opponent were under the necessity of acquiring glory. Machiavelli is not constrained by this necessity, yet he can acquire glory while losing and w ithout fighting, because he knows how to defer glory beyond his ow n time. His enterprise is too great for one lifetime, and though it leads to glory, it is not constrained by glory. Machiavelli says that one can escape battle so much the less w hen attacking the country of “others” w ith one’s army because if one wishes to enter the enemy’s country, one must fight when the enemy attacks. And if one camps before a city, one is obliged so much more to come to battle, as in our times two besieging French armies were defeated by the Swiss at Morat and Novara. Machiavelli has converted the necessity of fighting when on the defensive, the theme of this chapter, into the necessity of fighting w hen attacking, the conclusion of the chapter.73 The one-hundred-fourth chapter tells how to fight “in every mode over time.” Its title promises that “whoever has to do w ith many conquers even if he is inferior, provided that he can sustain the first attacks.” One therefore expects more on the strategy of captains, and it is surprising w hen Machiavelli begins w ith Appius Claudius’ handling of the tribunes in Rome. Then he turns to three examples of contemporary diplomacy. He does not discuss military strategy in the usual sense, and he treats domestic and foreign policy as identical from the elevated outlook of “one” contending against “many.” Machiavelli says that the pow er of the tribunes w as great, and it w as neces¬ sary, as w as said “many times” (especially I 37), because otherwise there could not have been any brake on the ambition of the nobility, which would have corrupted that republic much sooner. Yet everything has its ow n evil that gives rise to new accidents that must be provided against with new orders (I 34). Thus w hen the tribunate authority itself became insolent, some trouble dangerous to Roman liberty would have resulted if Appius Claudius had not show n the mode of defense against the ambition of the tribunes. This w as to find among them 72. Perhaps in Carthage this policy could not have been carried out against popular dislike; see D. I 53, end. 73. The two words for battle, giomata (see 11 16, 17) and zuffa, occur twelve and five times respectively in Ill 10; “army” occurs thirteen times.

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one “who was either fearful or corruptible or a lover of the common good”—any of these would do—so as to oppose him to the w ill of the others, w ho might have w illed to carry out some decision against the w ill of the Senate. This remedy was a great tempering of the tribunes’ authority, w hich has made Machiavelli consider that whenever many powers are united against one power, even though all together are much more powerful, one should nevertheless always place more hope in the one that is alone. For, to put aside all other things in which one alone can prevail (which are infinite), it w ill alw ays happen that one can disunite the many, and make that body which was robust weak, by using a little artful¬ ness (industria). Then the ground for placing hope in one pow er how ever weak is not only the infinite superiority of the one but chiefly human artfulness w ith its power to disunite the many. Yet it must also have the power to unite. We observe that while the tribunes are many, the nobility and Senate are presented as one, and w e remark that Appius’ mode of disuniting the tribunes was also a w ay of uniting w ith a particular tribune. How does “one” make a successful alliance? We remember the unsuccessful artfulness of another Appius Claudius in I 40. How does the “mode” Appius showed become a “new order”? Needless to say, it was not so called in Livy, nor was it described there as it is here.74 Machiavelli w ill content himself w ith modern examples, he says, as if he had not given an ancient one. The examples are to be in foreign affairs. First, in 1483 all Italy “conspired” against the Venetians, but having lost in the field, they bribed Lord Lodovico, w ho ruled Milan, and w ith this corruption made an accord by w hich they not only got back their lost lands but also usurped part of Ferrara. They lost the w ar but won the peace. Second, a few years ago all the world “conspired” against France, but before the end of the w ar Spain rebelled against the confederates and made an accord w ith France so that the other confederates were soon after obliged to do likewise. Machiavelli says that in a w ar of many against one, we should w ithout doubt alw ays judge that the one has to w in out if he has the virtue to sustain the first attacks and to aw ait the right time by temporizing. In the third example Machiavelli shows the “thousand dangers” to w hich the Venetians were subject in 1508, w hen they were unable to temporize w ith the French army and had no time to gain over to their side some of those leagued against them. The Venetians lacked a “virtuous army” and could not temporize. Yet Machiavelli goes on to explain how they might have made a deal w ith the pope or w ith Spain so as to save Lombardy from the French. The Venetians could have given a part to save the rest, and would have succeeded in this very w ise policy (see I 53) if they had acted in time so that it did not appear to be a necessity, that is, before the war. But before the war, he says, few' citizens in Venice could see the danger, very few could see the remedy, and no one advised it. Only now does someone advise it. To temporize, “one” does not need time, 74. Livy, IV 48. 5-9; V 2. 13-14; VI 40-42.

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or even “virtuous arms”; one needs farsighted prudence with which to anticipate and thus sustain the first attacks. Machiavelli, returning to the beginning of this discourse, concludes that just as the Roman Senate (not Appius) had a remedy for the safety of the country (patria) against the ambition of the tribunes as being many, so any prince attacked by many w ill have a remedy whenever he knows “with prudence” how to use apt means for disuniting them. To disunite, we have seen, it is necessary to unite, or gain over allies. T his uniting cannot (and need not) be attempted on the basis of the superiority of many to one, nor of any “body” (Machiavelli does not refer to any other whole in this chapter), though seemingly robust, to one man with prudence. W hen gaining allies this man may seek a lover of the common good, but the common good is shown in its effectual truth as the good of the patria in foreign affairs. How “one” may disunite and unite to serve the interest of the patria may be seen if we combine the three foreign examples. In the first, the Venetians are opposed to Italy; but in the third, their interest is the same as Italy’s in keeping the French out of Italy, which, as we know from the second example, is the interest of “all the world.” Machiavelli’s fatherland is “all the world”; he serves it by understanding domestic politics as foreign policy in defense of the world; and he is the one w ho, by serving as the brake on ambition for the safety of his country, furthers his own ambition. In the next chapter w e are shown how the prudent captain unites and disun¬ ites: he must lay every necessity to fight on his soldiers, anti take it aw ay from the enemy’s. Machiavelli says he has discussed in other places how useful necessity is in human actions (I 1, 3; II 12; 111 3) and to w hat glory they are led by it. He refers approvingly to certain moral philosophers (the sole instance of such approval in the Discourses75) who have written that the hands and tongues of men, “two most noble instruments for making them noble,” w ould not have operated perfectly nor have brought human works to the height they have reached if they had not been driven by necessity. I lere we see the noble clearly distinguished from the necessary, but necessity is necessary to the perfect operation even of the noble. Now the ancient captains of armies. Machiavelli contmues, knew the virtue o\this'necessity^they knew how much the spirits of soldiers "Become obstinate (ostinati) in combat by means of it. Therefore they arranged every operation so that their soldiers were constrained by it, and on the other hand used all their artfulness (industria; see III 1 1) to free their enemies from it. They often opened a w ay to the enemy that they could have closed, and for their own soldiers closed a way that could have been left open. This policy w orks for one w ho desires either that a city be defended stubbornly or that an army in the field fight stubbornly; and it allows a prudent captain who has to undertake the capture of a city (II 32) to measure the difficulty of the capture according to the necessity that constrains its inhabitants to defend themselves. 75. S., pp. 119-120, 140-141.

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Two different consequences are draw n from this statement. Machiavelli says that lands are more difficult to acquire after a rebellion than when first acquired. At the beginning they have no cause to fear punishment since they have not offended (compare III 1), but after they have rebelled they think that they have offended; they do fear punishment and become difficult to conquer. It would seem that these lands become difficult to reconquer by the power against whom they have rebelled, but easier to conquer by a power promising protection against that power. Perhaps the protecting power could be a neighbor. Machiavelli brings up a second source of stubbornness, that w hich arises from the natural hatreds among neighboring princes and republics. The hatreds come from ambition to dominate and jealousy of power, to be found especially in republics, as in Tuscany. One should not marvel, as many do, that Florence has acquired less in w ar than has Venice, because Venice has had neighbors used to living under a prince, not freely, who often care little about changing masters, and often even desire such changes, w hereas Florence is surrounded by free cities. Here Machiavelli is defending Florence against “many” who would accuse her of incompetence, indeed revealing that Florence, as opposed to Rome, did not destroy the freedom of the free cities around her (see II 2). He indicates, how ever, that the desire of republics to live freely cannot be separated from their ambition to dominate and jealousy of pow er; so in exculpating Florence he defends republican obstinacy created by republican jealousy created by republi¬ can ambition. If it w as not Florentine incompetence, neither w as it Florentine moderation that kept Florence from imitating Rome. Still, by comparison w ith III 1 1, w e see that the interest of Italy is safer w ith Florence, which cannot master its neighbors, than with Venice. And by comparison with the first consequence of measuring necessity, do not natural hatreds and ambition take aw ay from men the necessity they feel in the fear of punishment? In the situa¬ tion of rebels fearing punishment for having rebelled, we recognize the judg¬ ment by Captain Machiavelli of the necessity that operates on the inhabitants of the city he desires to capture. Returning from the digression, he says next that a captain should promise pardon if the defenders have fear of punishment, and if they have fear of liberty, he should show' that he is acting not against the common good but against the ambitious few7 in the city. Promises of pardon and attacks on the ambitious few7 have “facilitated enter¬ prises and captures of land.” But they have also deceived peoples desirous of immediate peace and led them into slavery, as happened recently to Florence (with the return of the Medici), and as happened to Crassus and his army. Crassus’ army w as misled by promises of peace from the Parthians, promises designed to take aw ay the necessity of his soldiers to defend themselves. Crassus knew the promises were vain but could not keep his men obstinate, Maehiavelli says, “as one sees in detail w hen reading of his life.” When reading Plutarch’s Life of Marcus Crassus one sees to the contrary that Crassus was himself misled by

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these promises.76 Machiavelli exculpates Crassus, and puts him into the com¬ pany of “prudent men” as distinct from deceived peoples. The next example, the fourth of seven (this is the one-hundred-fifth chapter), is a mistake of the “Romans” and a praiseworthy deed—or notable speech—of an enemy captain. Once the Samnites, “because of the ambition of few,” broke the terms of a treaty and raided the fields of Roman allies; but afterw ard they sent ambassadors to the Romans asking for peace and offering to restore the booty and to give over the authors of the trouble. The Romans refused, and the Samnites returned w ithout hope of accord. They w ere addressed in a notable oration by their captain, Claudius Pontius, who showed that the Romans w anted w ar “in every mode” and spoke these words: “Just is w ar for those to w hom it is necessary, and arms are pious for those to whom there is no hope save in arms.”77 Machiavelli remarks that “on this necessity”—not on justice or piety—the Samnites’ hope of victory w as founded, but he does not note that the Samnite captain claimed the protection, even leadership, of the gods against the Romans. In I 15 the Samnites were praised for their use of religion to put obstinacy into their soldiers; now, in accord w ith the upshot of that discourse, they are praised for their use of necessity. But the necessity is different. This w ar w as seemingly not necessary; it w as begun through the “ambition of few.” As the Romans w anted w ar “in every mode,” they allow ed the Samnite captain to impose necessity on his ow n soldiers w hen it was prudent to allow him to escape battle (111 10). In effect he identified the necessity of the ambitious few to be ambitious w ith the survival of all, w hereas in I 15 the Samnite captain and priest imposed on their soldiers the necessity arising from fear of punishment by the gods. Machiavelli has substituted a necessity that can be managed to unite the few and the many—ambition—for a necessity that divides prudent men from peoples—religion. So as not to have to return to this matter Machiavelli w ill give us those Roman examples most worthy of notice. Gaius Manilius (actually Gnaeus Manlius), fighting the Veientes, caught a part of the enemy inside his stockade and trapped them by closing all the exits. VV hereupon the Veientes fought with such rage that they killed Manilius, and the situation w as saved only by the prudence of a tribune w ho opened a w ay for the Veientes to escape. Thus the Romans under Manilius repeated the mistake—of uniting a disunited enemy—for w hich the Veientes were blamed w hen Machiavelli considered this same w ar in 11 25. On another occasion a Volscian army under Vetius Messius found itself suddenly enclosed between its stockade, occupied by Romans, and the other Roman army. Messius, seeing that he must die or open a w ay with steel (note this possibility), told his soldiers that walls did not count; they were equal in virtue and superior in the last and greatest weapon, necessity. Machiavelli immediately ascribes this statement of Livy’s character to Livy himself. He does 76. Walker, II 174, records but does not notice the discrepancy. Plutarch, Marcus Crassus 27-31. 77. Livy, IX 1. 10-11; cf. P. 26; I F. V 8.

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not quote Messius’ question to his men: “Do you think that some god will protect you and take you away from here?” Perhaps Machiavelli himself adopts Messius’ view rather than the contrary view of Claudius Pontius, the Samnite captain; for to close the w ay to protection by some god is to lay on the necessity of self-defense. Machiavelli is not opposed to closing the w ay to foreigners (see I 6) if it is done prudently. Livy stresses the value of Messius’ speech to his men, and we see in this and in the Samnite example that it w as a speech by that most noble instrument for ennobling man—the tongue—that laid on and took away necessity, jjn conclusion Machiavelli cites the action of Camillus, “the most prudent of aJl Rnpian captains,” w hen he and his army had invaded the city of the Veientes. To deprive the enemy of a last necessity of defending themselves, he ordered in their hearing (Livy says through heralds78) that no one should harm those w ho w ere disarmed. So the Veientes flung their arms dow n, and the city was taken almost without bloodshed (III 7). “This mode was followed afterward by many captains.” Machiavelli, writing so others can hear, also seems to promise pardon for the disarmed, for those who deprive themselves of the last and greatest w eapon because they think some god w ill protect them. As for the few, Machiavelli does not blame their ambition despite their mistakes; he frees it and calls it necessity.79 Reconciling the few and the many (III 12), or the one and the many (III 11), is the problem of the next chapter, on whether one should trust more in a good (buono) captain w ith a weak army or in a good army w ith a weak captain. The leading example is that of Coriolanus, also considered in I 29 and in I 7, seventy-seven and ninety-nine chapters earlier, respectively. After Coriolanus became an exile from Rome, he went to the Volscii, gathered an army to avenge himself on “his citizens,” and came back to Rome. Then he departed more out of respect (or through the piety) of his mother than because of the Roman forces. Livy says (Machiavelli reminds us) that from this one can learn that the Roman republic grew more from the virtue of captains than of soldiers, since the Volscii won only when they had Coriolanus for their captain.80 Coriolanus was unim¬ pressed by the Roman forces, not to mention (Machiavelli does not) love of his country, but the question of trusting a good or virtuous captain extends beyond his relative contribution to the grow th of the state to the danger of treason. Coriolanus’ example implies that virtue is as such unconcerned with love of country or the common good: to be virtuous one need not be loyal to anyone but oneself. Machiavelli does not state this implication, nor does he meet it directly; but in the course of the chapter he w eighs it. Although Livy held the opinion that the virtue of captains contributes more, Machiavelli asserts that his history denies it, for there one sees in many places marvelous feats done by the virtue of soldiers without a captain. With our 78. Livy, V 21. 3. 79. “Necessity” occurs thirteen times in III 12. 80. Livy, II 39. 2.

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attention directed to this discrepancy in Livy, will we notice that although Machiavelli professes to trust in the virtue of soldiers without a captain, he gives not one example of it in this chapter? He speaks first of soldiers that w ere more disciplined (ordmati) and ferocious after the death of their consuls than before, like the Romans in Spain under the Scipios. This only makes us reflect that an army after the death of its captain is not exactly an army w ithout a captain, and besides, we see in T itus Livy that one man, a Roman knight trained by Gnaeus Scipio, rallied the wailing soldiers and restored the lost Roman fortunes.81 Yet Machiavelli assures us that, considering everything, one w ill find many exam¬ ples w here the virtue of soldiers alone will have won the battle, and many others where the virtue of captains w ill have had the same effects; so one may judge that each has need of the other. If indeed there had been many examples where the virtue of either has sufficed, one would judge the contrary of what Machiavelli says. Machiavelli uses good (buono) and virtue {virtu) interchange¬ ably here, so that “virtue” does not appear to be such a rare thing, restricted to one or a few. It is well to consider first, Machiavelli says, w hich is more to be feared, a good army badly captained or a good captain supported by a bad army (compare the man on a horse, II 18). Then he quotes Caesar giving an ill estimate of both, when going against an army w ithout a leader and a leader w ithout an army. Apparently Caesar feared neither. Whom did he trust?—for that w as the ques¬ tion of the chapter heading. Doubtless he trusted himself as a good captain, but those who fear a captain of dubious loyalty like (oriolanus or Caesar, are caught between their fear and their need of a captain they can trust. Caesar’s equal condemnation suggests they can trust only a good captain w ith a good army, and that they must fear both the one privative and the other. Accordingly, Machiavelli next considers whether it is easier for a good captain to make a good army or a good army to make a good captain. 1 his question can be answered decisively; “tor many good ones w ill more easily find or instruct one so that he becomes good, than one can do for many.” But the three examples brought up to support the point actually undermine it. An “altogether inexpert” Roman captain, Lucullus, w as made a good captain w hen he was sent to command a good army, “where there w ere many of the best chiefs.” Maybe one of these instructed him; and as Plutarch tells the story, neither was Lucullus inexpert nor was the army good.82 Also, the Romans armed many slaves, w hen they lacked men (after their defeat at Cannae), and gave them to be drilled by Sempronius Gracchus, “w ho in a short time made a good army.” Here the express result contradicts the lesson to be taught, and the lesson would have to say that slaves (the “many good ones”) w ill find or instruct a good captain. Then, Pelopidas and Lpaminondas, “as we have said else¬ where,” after getting their native eity Thebes out of slavery to the Spartans, 81. Livy, XXV 37. 1, 10. 82. Plutarch, Lucullus 7. Walker (II 175) believes N’M is confused, not lying.

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quickly made Theban farmers into the best soldiers. Here again the captain makes the army, and “elsewhere” (in I 21) this example was used to illustrate the truest truth that where men are not soldiers, the cause is a defect in the prince. Yielding somewhat to the drift of his examples, Machiavelli concludes that the thing is equal, since one good can find the other. This indicates two different goods—virtue and goodness, we may suppose—finding each other in a common good. Machiavelli clearly teaches by his example that the captain must dissem¬ ble his ambition (II 13) and conceal the extent of his “leadership” (as we say today); yet his dissembling does produce an enforced conformity to what the many want, security from fear. It is striking that a captain could be suggested to be the creation of slaves. The chapter, however, ends with a typical Machiavellian “nonetheless” lead¬ ing in a statement of trust in one captain. “Nonetheless,” a good army without a good head may become insolent and dangerous, like the army of Macedonia after the death of Alexander (compare II 10) and the veterans of the civil wars (who are they!). So “I believe” one should trust much more in a captain who has time to instruct men and means to arm them than in an insolent army “with a head made tumultuously by itself.” Therefore those captains deserve a double glory and praise who not only have had to defeat the enemy but before coming to grips (“hands,” see III 12, beg.) with it, have been obliged to instruct their army and make it good. Such captains have a double virtue so rare that if such a task were given to “many,” these many would be less esteemed than they are. We are told, not merely taught indirectly, that the instructing captain will succeed to a glory that dims present glories, but the effect of this declaration, which must be a self-declaration, is therefore to depreciate the contribution of the ordinary captain. There are captains and captains, the rare ones who in¬ struct and the “many” who arc surpassed—and instructed—by them. The many good ones who were supposed to find or instruct a good captain need the instruction of a captain w ith a rare double virtue. Yet double virtue is distin¬ guished from mere virtue by its power to instruct the many, by its use of speech to instruct as well as of hands to fight; thus it rises above the opposition between virtue and goodness, or that betw een the few’ and the many. The one has double virtue because it belongs to both the few' and the many, and thereby unites them.

Ill 14

In the chapter following, on the effects of new inventions that appear in the middle of battle and of new voices that are heard, the captain of captains is show n instructing his charges w ith five instructive examples. He begins: how momentous in conflicts and battles is a new accident arising from something newly seen or heard is show n “in many places” (in Livy’s book or in the world?). In the chapter heading he had spoken of “new7 inventions,” implying intention, and of voices heard but not of things seen; in the chapter body we are given three examples of fabricated accidents regarding things seen, but none regarding

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voices heard.83 As compared to I 56 and II 29, the accidents discussed here concern devices of warfare rather than foresight of future things, hut w arfare over time requires foresight. A Roman captain in battle w ith the Volscii, seeing one w ing of his army yielding, began to shout loudly that they should stand firm because the other wing of the army was victorious. This speech gave spirit to his men and frightened the enemy, and he won. Here was a controlled accident, a “salutary falsehood” as Livy calls it,84 a speech about something that could have been seen but was not. Machiavelli does not of course make any reference to religion in this context, but the captain’s shout reminds us of those w ho claim divine favor in the next world while suffering in this one, victorious on the other w ing it losing on this one. Such a claim can indeed give spirit to losers in this world, though perhaps not so much as the contrary formula that necessity is the last and greatest weapon (III 12). For sooner or later someone will ask for evidence that the other w ing has been victorious,85 at which time it becomes necessary to fabricate things heart!. The danger in this is displayed in the second example, a notable one occurring “in our times,” show ing how voices heard in a tumultous army have very great effects because “the whole is moved by the same w ind.” Here may be the grandfather of all opprobrious jokes about Italian armies.86 The Oddi were a party of exiles from Perugia, w here the Baglioni ruled. They got together an army, and one night entered the city w ithout being discovered. As they came tow ards the piazza, they had in front “one” w ho w as breaking the locks that held the chains barring the streets to their cavalry; but when he reached the last lock, and the alarm had at last been raised, he was crowded from behind so that he had no room to raise his arms. 1 le said, “W ill you move back?” and this “voice” was passed on from rank to rank—“back!”—until it made those in the rear begin to flee, and then all the others tied in such a hurry that they defeated themselves. Machiavelli’s moral is that the “orders” of an army arc necessary not so much to fight “ordinarily” as to ensure that every least accident does not disorder you. Popular multitudes are useless for w ar because every uproar, voice, or noise disturbs them and makes them flee. The remedy is that every good captain must order w ho is to take his “voice” and pass it on to the other, to accustom his soldiers to believe only these and his captains to say only w hat he has commanded. I lerc are the heralds w ho broadcast the voice of Camillus, omitted at the end of III 12, or the captains of the captain, implied at the end of 111 13. Machiavelli has no objection to night attacks by exiles (II 32), but they must be attempted by well-ordered armies with disciplined inter¬ mediaries or interpreters (compare the chicken-men of 1 14). The subcaptains 83. 84. 85. 86.

S., p. 220. Livy, 11 64. 6. Livy, 11 70. 11. Francesco Guicciardini, Storia (Tltalia III 2.

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must pass on the voice the captain intends his troops to hear, and he must keep them from fleeing in panie when they apprehend, or realize, that the front ranks have not been victorious. As for seeing new things, Machiavelli says every eaptain should use his ingenuity to make something appear, while the armies are engaged, that will give spirit to his men and take it away from the enemy. He gives three examples of fabricated apparitions. The Roman dictator Gaius Sulpicius armed all the plunderers and rabble in his camp, and set them on mules to resemble cavalry; they appeared on signal in the midst of the battle with such effect that the French were terrified and lost the day. T his is the same dictator as “Gneus” Sulpicius, who in III 10 wished to refrain from battle; according to Livy, he was goaded to fight when his own soldiers accused him (as we see unjustly) of expecting victory to fly down from heaven into his lap.87Machiavelli reflects that a good captain should try to terrify the enemy w ith new inventions, as did Sulpicius, and be prepared to expose those of the enemy, as the king of India did to Semiramis. For Semiramis tricked up camels w ith buffalo and cowhides to make it appear that she had as many elephants as the king of India, but the king penetrated her imaginative deceit. Cavalry seems to be prominent among new inventions in such manner as to recall the meaning of “cavalry” in II 18. The last example describes the action of a Roman dictator when faced w ith the new invention of the Fidenates who, to frighten the Roman army, had a number of their men appear in the heat of battle w ith flames on their spears. Machiavelli interrupts this example w ith a meditation that parallels the thinking of the dictator. He says that w hen such inventions have more of truth than fiction, they can be well represented to men, because being sufficiently robust {gagliardo), their w eakness cannot be discovered. But if they are more fictitious than true, it is w ell not to make them, or if they are made, to keep them at a distance, as did Gaius Sulpicius w ith his muleteers. When they are close, like the elephants of Semiramis and the flames of the Fidenates, they are soon exposed, and bring harm. This would be another use for “fictive or true exer¬ cises” besides getting men used to the enemy (II 17). Machiavelli then quotes w hat the dictator said to rally his soldiers: “Destroy the Fidenates w ith their ow n flames, since you have not been able to placate them w ith your benefits [vestris beneficiis].” In Livy we discover that these Fidenates had flames, but not spears; they were unarmed.88 We see first that apparitions can be used to frighten the enemy; second, that they can be exposed w ith harm to the enemy; and third, that they can be turned against the enemy. Regarding new inventions of things heard, we saw' first that a lie that the other wing has been victorious can be used to hearten one’s own soldiers; second, that a voice in the dark, misinterpreted, can dishearten them. To make a third possibility, one would have to turn the enemy’s new' invention 87. Livy, VII 12. 13. 88. Livy, IV' 33. 1-5. Lefort, p. 636.

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against him: one may say that Fortune is on our side when it is identical with necessity (II 29). This voice must be correctly interpreted, but it can be well represented because it contains more truth than fiction. In the last discourse of this section Machiavelli concludes his instructions on the relation betw een the captain and his captains. The title says that “one anti not many” should be put in command of an army, and so recalls the description of captains in the plural as “many” at the end of III 13. From Machiavelli’s standpoint of the captain instructing his ow n army, ordinary captains belong in the ranks of the many, and yet from their standpoint, they are to be distin¬ guished from the many. The advice of II 33 to give full pow er to captains must be revised to meet this difficulty. Machiavelli begins w ith the story of a rebellion against the Romans by the Fidenates, the very rebellion w hich issued in the battle the Fidenates tried to w in by waving flames (III 14). To remedy this “insult” the Romans created four tribunes w ith consular pow er; they left one in Rome as a guard and sent three against the Fidenates anti the Vcientes. These three became disunited, and brought back dishonor though not harm; they were the cause of dishonor, but the virtue of the soldiers, Machiavelli adds to Livy, w as the cause that no harm came.89 Then the Romans had recourse to the creation of a dictator, “so that one alone might reorder w hat three had disordered.” It might seem that in this case, as opposed to those cited in 111 13, the virtue of the soldiers sustained the Romans without a captain, but still it did not allow the Romans to conquer. Then Machiavelli quotes Livy that the confusion of three consuls offered an opportunity to the enemy, but he does not say what. Although this example is enough to show the disorder that several command¬ ers cause in w ar, Machiavelli w ishes to add some others, modern and ancient, for greater elucidation. This means that we can apply the two examples follow ¬ ing to the first. The next example is a case of divided authority in modern diplomacy, as if a diplomatic mission w ere the command of an army. When the king of France sent his emissaries to Pisa to restore it to the Florentines in 1500, the Florentines sent two commissioners, one of them an older man of reputa¬ tion. The other commissioner let the first govern everything, but if he did not show his ambition in opposing him, he showed it by silence, neglect, and contempt. Then the older man had to return to Florence, and the younger man show ed his worth in spirit, industry, and counsel, all of w hich w ere lost w hile his companion was there.90 Machiavelli does not remind us that the result was shameful to the Florentines (I 38). To confirm this example, Machiavelli says he w ill again quote Livy, and so produces another example. Once the Romans sent against the Aequi Quinctius (the liar of III 14) and his colleague Agrippa, who wished the entire administration of the w ar to be put w ith Quinctius, and said: “It is most beneficial in the administration of great things that the highest 89. Livy, IV 31.4. 90. Perhaps this is a remedy for the difficulty of the Florentine commissioner in D. I 8.

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authority be in one.” Actually this was Livy’s comment, not Agrippa’s, but Machiavelli’s attribution shows Agrippa helping his colleague by deferring to him voluntarily. Machiavelli scolds “our republics and princes” for sending more than one commissioner or more than one head for the sake of better administration. If one were looking for the cause of the ruin of Italian and French armies in our times, one would find this to be the most powerful. It is better, “one can truly con¬ clude,” to send one man of common prudence alone on an expedition than tw o most valuable men together w ith the same authority. This conclusion is doubt¬ less sound and true, yet we have just seen two examples of equal authority that did not bring ruin. In the first, the better man deferred to the older man of more reputation, while “showing his ambition”; in the second, the lesser man de¬ ferred, not show ing his ambition but helping his colleague. With deference, tw o authorities become one. But what of a situation of three authorities, as in the first example? In the Florentine example also, there was a third man on the expedition, Machiavelli himself. Machiavelli does not tell us that he went along, but as in I 27 the know ledge of his presence at one of his examples helps us to understand it. The example is diplomatic so that we can see that Machiavelli’s captains are his commissioners.

2.

Virtue and the Multitude (III 16-34)

In the first section of Book III w e have seen that the founder of new' orders must make himself captain to propagate them. Since he cannot be everyw here and do everything himself, he must commission other captains, as we have just seen in III 15. But to maintain his new7 orders he must also rule over the multitude, for the multitude maintains new orders by holding their founder or founders in repute or fame. The first chapter on founders (I 9) w as concerned with praise and blame of founders, and was followed immediately by a chapter on their fame, concluding what founders face the tw o w ays leading to glory or sempiternal infamy after death. That founders must care for their fame after death was thus quickly established, although seventeen chapters later (I 27) the two ways merged in the “eternal memory” of one w ho w ould know how to be altogether bad. Machiavelli must now develop this care of the founder, and enter into the question of surviving after death. The nineteen chapters from III 16 to III 34 explain the natural religion of the founder-captain, for he depends on his fame, and hence on the nature of the peoples that make him famous. Not only does he depend on them, but he also confronts the natural limitation of mortality in company w ith all men. We have noted the chapters at intervals of nineteen that concern w eakness (I 19, 38, 57; II 16). Machiavelli must account for his own weakness, and find strength despite or even in virtue of his mortality. But to do so he must illuminate the common good of princes and peoples w hile respecting their differences. Although he had

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finished the preceding section with a contrast between one and many captains, seeming to elevate himself above other captains, he must now join the many and teach them to support him. He must make terms between his design and their characteristic weakness on the basis of common mortality. He w ill have to find unity in body and to see hope in fear. The terms will have to combine the opposites associated with the diverse natures of princes and peoples: private and public, wisdom and goodness, strength and weakness, punishment and love. In the first chapter of the new section Machiavelli takes up the topic of changing with the times, w hich he had considered only seven chapters earlier in III 9. But w hile the earlier chapter treated the changing of individual captains to accord w ith the times, and concluded that a republic has a longer life than a principality because of its diversity of citizens, the present chapter deals w ith the welcome accorded to virtuous individuals, and brings up a “disorder” of republics in this regard. The chapter title announces generally that true virtue is sought for in difficult times, but in easy times, not virtuous men but those w ith riches or family connection (parentado) have more favor (grazia). The first sen¬ tence then applies the generality to a “republic,” in which “it has always been and always will be” that great and rare men are neglected in times of peace; and the rest of the chapter discusses only republics. But the generality is not nar¬ rowed w hen applied if one considers that Machiavelli’s arena of things that alw ays have been and alw ays will be can be described as a or one (una) republic. Accordingly, Machiavelli gives three examples of imperialistic republics in the chapter. The first is Athens, which is said to show the reason why great and rare men are neglected in peaceful times: they are subject to the envy of “many citizens” that wish to be not only their equals but their superiors (I pr.). The reference is to a “good place” in Thucydides, the debate over the Sicilian expedition. At that time, Machiavelli says, the Athenians had checked the pride of the Spartans and almost subjugated all the rest of Greece1 (thus w as the pride of the Spartans necessary to the freedom of Greece), and so attained such reputation that they planned to seize Sicily. In the debate over this enterprise, Alcibiades and some other citizen advised it because, thinking little of the public good, they thought of their honor and planned to become the heads of the enterprise. But Nicias, w ho w as the first of those highly reputed in Athens, advised against it (la dissuadeva)\ anti the greatest reason he adduced to make the people put faith in him w as that in advising against this w ar, he w as not advising something for himself. For he knew that when Athens was at peace, countless citizens wished to go before him, but that in war, no citizen would be his superior or equal. Machiavelli leaves the debate at this point. When discussing it in 153, he had used it for an example of the people’s attraction to “rash enterprises” under which ruin lies hidden, as happened to Athens; and he blamed Nicias tor failing 1. Cf. Thucydides, VI 6. 1.

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to persuade the people that it was not well to attaek Sieily. Now, however, he does not mention the outcome of the debate, much less of the expedition, and he almost gives the impression that Nieias succeeded in “dissuading” the people. Perhaps Machiavelli wishes to show how' Nieias could have got the better of Alcibiades. Alcibiades w as thinking of his honor, not the public good; but w hat prevents a harmony of interest between the two? It is the envy of “many citizens” who w ish to be his superiors, as Machiavelli says, or of “countless citizens” in peacetime, as Machiavelli’s Nieias says. By attributing envy to many citizens in peacetime, Nieias hides the harmony of interest between Alcibiades’ love of honor and the public good, w hile also dissembling his own envy of Alcibiades. Nieias says that countless citizens wish to go before him in contradiction to Machiavelli’s statement that he was first in reputation in Athens; Nieias pretends that his superiority in war does not carry over into peace. In effect he denies that he has an established reputation, precisely to keep it established over that of Alcibiades, w ho is truly the one w ho will gain honor from w ar. Machiavelli thus suggests that those of established reputation may hold dow n the virtue of the young and the new' (compare I 60) w ith disclaimers of ambition coupled w ith arguments for peace. Thucydides’ Nieias made a display of his distrust of youthful, honor-loving Alcibiades,2 but Machiavelli’s Nieias conceals his reputation and thereby dissembles his envy. Yet, how ever advantageous to established men, Nieias’ argument seems con¬ trary to the common good, for “quiet times” produce the “disorder” of provid¬ ing little esteem for worthy men. So they become indignant in two w ays: to see themselves lacking their rank and to see unworthy men of less competence {sofficienza) than they made their associates and superiors. In now justifying envy, Machiavelli separates w hat seems inseparable in it—concern for one’s own rank—from anger at the promotion of unworthy men. This disorder has produced “many ruins” in republics because those citizens who see themselves undeservedly despised know' that the cause of it is easy times, and so they strive to disturb them by making new' wars to the prejudice of the republic. The disorders arising from envy make Nieias’ distinction between peace and w ar into a continuum, and now (compare I 4) cause concern. “And thinking what could be the remedies, I find two of them,” Machiavelli says, speaking for the republic and also for himself. The remedies are to keep the citizens poor so that “w ith riches w ithout virtue” they cannot corrupt them¬ selves or others, and to order oneself for w ar so that one can alw ays make w ar and always has need of reputed citizens, as did the Romans “in their first times.” The first remedy is not discussed (see I 37; II 19), but the Romans’ use of the second, in always keeping armies outside the city, is said to have alw ays ensured 2.

I hucydides has Nieias claim to offer disinterested advice because he could gain honor from

the expedition; but of course he will not gain honor if the expedition, as he expects, does not succeed, VI 9. 2. NM turns from the viability of the enterprise to the mutual envy of its possible chiefs, and (supra) neglects Thucydides’ treatment of this matter, VI 12. 2, 15. 2-3.

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a place for the virtue of men. The Romans did by their ordering what the Athenians did by debate. If sometimes rank was given to the undeserving, there followed such danger and disorder as returned them immediately to the “true way,” as contrasted with other republics that fight wars only when necessity constrains them (II 6, 8), and so alw ays suffer disorder w hen a neglected anti virtuous citizen becomes vindictive. Two examples of worthy men in republics occupy the rest of the chapter: Paulus Kmilius in the Roman republic and Antonio Giacomini in the Floren¬ tine. Paulus Kmilius was not given command by the “city of Rome” until a war judged dangerous, the Macedonian war, arose; for despite Machiavelli’s forego¬ ing praise of the Roman ordering for war, he says now that Rome committed its armies to popular favorites rather than men of virtue after having conquered Carthage and Antiochus (see II 1). To make this queer example showing that ordering for war is not enough after all, Machiavelli suppressed the fact (re¬ ported in Plutarch3) that Paulus had been given a command before this in which he had been conspicuously successful. Moreover, he omits the fact that Paulus, w hom Plutarch agrees was a man of virtue, w as also a man of great w ealth and important family. His selection does not illustrate the disjunction betw een true virtue and riches and family, but rather suggests the need for combining them. The example of Antonio Giacomini advances this suggestion. After 1494 “our city of Florence” went through many w ars, and though all the Florentine citizens made a bad showing, the city came upon “one” who showed how' to command armies—this was \ntonio. Now Antonio had no competitors in dangerous wars, but in wars w here there was no doubt and plenty of honor and rank, he had so many competitors that he lost out. So he w as left behind w hen commissioners were chosen for the siege of Pisa. But though the Pisans had means neither to defend themselves nor to live, the Florentine chiefs did not know how to force them, and Florence finally had to buy them. Antonio w as obliged to be patient and good not to avenge himself for it, either w ith the ruin of the city, if he could, or w ith injury to some particular citizen. A republic must guard itself from this—that is, from the vengeance of someone not patient and good—as w ill be discussed in the follow ing chapter. We observe that Antonio, like Nicias, receives better treatment from Machiavelli in this chapter than in 1 53. There Antonio was blamed lor not having taken Pisa, as he had promised, and w as said to have stayed alive more through the humanity of those w ho had authority over him than by any cause that could defend him w ith the people. But being patient and good is such a cause, provided that the broken promise is forgotten. Considering w hat w e are not told of the three examples, we see that Nicias, a man of reputation and riches, w as chosen to command together w ith Alcibiades, a man of virtue; Paulus was chosen for his virtue, having also riches and family; and Antonio 3. Plutarch, Aemilius Paulus 6.

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was not chosen despite his virtue, and had to be patient and good. The people’s virtues of patience and goodness in the modern example from “our city” substi¬ tute for reputation with the people and for riches and family connection in the ancient examples. Thus we are shown how Machiavelli can assure the reception of his virtue in his own republic. He w ill have none of the w orldly advantages of riches and family, but he can have the effect of them by combining virtue and goodness, the two opposing qualities of princes and peoples, into “true virtue.” True virtue follows the “true way” of merit rewarded (in this chapter) and the “true way” of changing with the times (III 9). As we were told in II 2 that Chris¬ tianity shows the true way, we may surmise that it shows how7 to order a republic so that it always makes w ar, w hile seeming to be at peace, so that the republic be¬ comes great and acquires an empire (II 19). The war is Machiavelli’s enterprise undertaken against modern w eakness; but in heading this enterprise Machiavelli

III 17

must commission other captains (III 15), and stand behind them keeping his ow n rank, yet unenvious of their merits. He must be patient and good, and, like Nicias, he can avoid the imputation of envy by claiming that he has nothing to gain from peace. In fact, his patience is inactivity forced upon him by the nature of his enterprise, which requires both one captain and many captains—hence that the one captain behind the many captains take a place among the ruled. In the following chapter, w e w ere to be told how7 a republic must guard itself from the vengeance of someone not patient and good. It is a short chapter containing one story about a failure of the Roman republic in this respect which still ended happily. Much to the indignation of Guicciardini, the story uses Livy outrageously; one could almost say, in the spirit of the topic, that it does him an offense.4 The chapter heading says that “one” should not be offended and then “that same” one sent to an important post of administration and government. As in III 16, this generality is applied immediately and solely to a republic. It is illustrated with the example of Claudius Nero, who was offended and yet entrusted with an “important administration.” Claudius, facing Hannibal, divided his army, taking part of it to the Marches to join with the other consul to defeat Hasdrubal before he could unite with Hannibal; thus Claudius divided his army to unite it with another army and to prevent the enemy from uniting his army. Before this, when campaigning in Spain, Claudius had caught Hasdrubal and his army in a place w here they had to fight at a disadvantage or die of hunger; but Hasdrubal escaped by diverting Claudius w ith “certain terms of truce.” Claudius had been heavily criticized for this in Rome by the Senate and the people, Machiavelli says (without founda¬ tion in Livy), and under the imputation of great dishonor and contempt sent to this command, where he adopted the very dangerous policy described. When 4. In another version the offense to Livy does not appear. Momigliano considers it earlier and (in his honesty) superior to the definitive version here considered. Arnaldo Momigliano, “Un capitolo ignoto dei ‘Discorsi’ di Machiavelli,” Rendiconti dell' Accademia Nazionale dei Lincei, Classe di Scienze Morali, 6th series, 4 (1929), 590-595. W., II 181.

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Claudius w as asked why he had adopted so dangerous a poliey, where without extreme necessity he had staked almost the liberty of Rome, he replied that he had done so because he knew that if he succeeded, he would regain the glory lost in Spain, and that if not, he would have revenge against the city and those citizens who had so ungratefully and indiscreetly offended him. Claudius’ willingness to postpone his glory in the hope of regaining it could be considered a kind of patience. This reply of Claudius’ is awarded to him by Machiavelli; in Livy it is a statement of the other consul,5 6 w ho had truly been disgraced. But in Livy’s account Claudius did make a speech explaining this very dangerous policy to his soldiers. He told them, among other things, that arriving last on the battlefield, they would have almost all the glory, for “always what is added last seems to have brought w ith it the whole thing."8 Could this not be Machiavelli’s promise to his army, or to his captains? I le believes he is carrying the burden most of the way (I pr.), but in his goodness he offers most of the glory to those who carry it a short way to its destination. Machiavelli may divide his army, but he w ill not be diddled by false offers of peace. Perhaps he w ill entertain his enemies with them. In II 10 the attack of Claudius “together w ith the other Roman consul" (his name, not given in this chapter either, where his speech is misappropriated, was Livius Salinator) on Hasdrubal in the Marches was used to show that a captain w ho is forced to fight or flee, alw ays chooses to fight. But it would be a mistake to lay this necessity on one’s enemy (III 12).

III 18

Concluding the chapter, Machiavelli tries to argue a fortiori from the exam¬ ple. If these passions from such offenses could be so pow erful in a Roman citizen, and in times when Rome was yet uncorrupt (compare 111 6), one may think how powerful they might be in a citizen of another city not made as Rome was then. Because one cannot give a certain remedy to similar disorders that arise in republics, “it follows that it is impossible to order a perpetual republic," as its ruin will be caused in a thousand unexpected w ays. But where—in what republic claiming to be perpetual—is the vengeance of an offended captain unexpected? The next chapter, w hose title announces that “nothing is more worthy of a captain than to foresee the plans of the enemy," has no obvious relation to the two foregoing chapters. The relation to “true virtue" combining patience or goodness and virtue appears only when one discovers which enemy Machiavelli has in mind. He begins by falsely attributing the title, now altered from “worthy of a captain ... to foresee’’ to necessary and useful for a captain to know , to a saying of Lpaminondas.7 Lpaminondas has appeared as a captain who made his people into soldiers (I 21; III 13), but the good effects of his virtue 5. Livy, XXVII 40. 9. 6. Livy, XXVII 45. 5-6. 7. W., II 181-182, Lefort, pp. 639-640.

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did not outlast his life (I 17). Because knowledge of the enemy’s plans is dif¬ ficult, Machiavelli continues, he is so much the more praiseworthy who exerts himself to conjecture them. It is not so difficult to understand the enemy’s designs as his actions sometimes, and not so difficult to understand actions tar away (discosto) as those present and near. For often it has happened that when a battle lasts until nightfall, the one who has won believes he has lost, and the one who has lost believes he has won. There follow four examples of understanding the present and near actions of an enemy, none of w hich illustrates the ridiculous situation at nightfall which Machiavelli says has often come about. The first example is of Brutus and Cassius at the battle of Philippi. Although Brutus had won on his w ing, Cassius believed that Brutus had lost and that the whole army was defeated; he de¬ spaired of his safety {salute) by this error, and killed himself. Here is a desperate suicide out of ignorance in the situation (or half of it) that “often” obtains at nightfall on the battlefield. We w ill therefore conjecture, in a feeble attempt to w in Machiavelli’s praise, using this first example together w ith the other indic¬ ations given so far, that “night” means death and that one’s fortune after death is the enemy w hose plans must be foreseen. Actions are said to be more difficult to understand than plans, contrary to what one would suppose,8 because the actions refer to accidents occurring after one’s death, and the plans, to pro¬ vidential design. Present and near actions on earth are more difficult to under¬ stand than far-off actions aw ay from earth that conform to the design. Thus the situation of a w inner believing himself loser and loser believing himself winner identifies the Christian providential design, in which success in this world is punished in the next, and failure rewarded. Machiavelli wants to know what w ill happen in this world after he dies; so his examples concern only present and near actions w ith a view to foreseeing w ith know ledge w hat fortune withholds (compare II 29, twenty-two chapters before). One can move, then, from the understanding of actions to the imposition of one’s ow n design, which requires more than one lifetime for successful completion. The second example is a modern defeat from error, parallel to the first. In a battle between the king of France and the Swiss, those Swiss remaining alive when night fell believed they had w on, being ignorant of the others w ho had been defeated and killed. This error made them wait to fight at a disadvantage when they could have saved themselves; and it also caused another error w hen the army of the pope and the king of Spain, acting on false news of victory, became prisoners of the French. From the parallel w e infer that the ancients despair too soon and kill themselves, but the moderns hope too much and fall prisoner of the French.9 The third example of a similar error is again ancient. The Romans fought the 8. It sounded funny to Walker, so he mistranslated it, I 519. 9. The French in turn did not fall prisoner, hut made an accord with the Church; see this battle in II 22.

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Aequi until night came; and both armies being half defeated, they withdrew to nearby hills (not despairing like Brutus) where they believed they would be more secure. The Roman army was divided into two parts, one w ith the consul, the other w ith the centurion by whose virtue the Roman army had not been entirely routed that day. When morning came, the consul and the army of the Aequi both retreated, each believing the enemy had won, so leaving his camp as booty. But the centurion learned from certain wounded Aequi that their cap¬ tains had left and had abandoned their camp. With this news he entered the Roman camp, saved it, and after sacking the camp of the Aequi, returned victorious to Rome. T his victory, Machiavelli says, w ent to w hoever w as first to understand the disorders of the enemy. It can often happen that two armies arc in the same disorder and suffer the same necessity, and the w inner is the first to understand the necessity of the other. Since the w inner in the example w as the first to recognize the unnecessary error of the other in believing he had lost, the conclusion would be inapt unless the necessity in question is the necessity of losing in the sense of dying. The “Aequi” in this example should be the Volsci:10 so we are induced to look at the last place w here Machiavelli discussed the Aequi in III 15. There, two Roman captains w ere sent against the Aequi, one of w hom yielded to the other; here an underofficer did the work of the consul, and then modestly declined to take credit." Machiavelli now wishes to give a “domestic and modern example,” w hich Allan Gilbert calls “comic,” of understanding the other’s necessity.12 In the story no action is taken at night, and no error is committed; so the example “is in a class by itself.”13 Yet it also is the modern parallel to the third example. To divert the Florentines from Fisa, the Venetians besieged a castle on a hill that was under the dominion of Florence. The Florentines decided to meet this threat without diminishing their forces in Fisa, and sent new infantry and cavalry to meet the Venetians. I laving confronted each other for several days, both armies suffered from lack of victuals and every other necessity; and neither daring to attack nor know ing the disorders of the other, they decided on the same night to leave their camps and retreat. When morning came, by chance a woman, “secure because of her age and her poverty,” left the village and came to the Florentine camp to see some of her people; from her the Florentine captains learned that the Venetian camp was deserted. Made bold by the news, they changed their minds, and moved against the enemy as if they had dislodged him. Then they w rote to Florence of how they had repulsed the enemy and won the war. This victory, Machiavelli concludes, arose from our knowing that the enemy w ere leaving before the enemy knew w e w ere leaving, lor il this new s 10. Livy, IV 37-41. 11. Livy, IV 41. 12. Chief Works, 1 473. 13. S., pp. 38-39, 303n48. After a relatively long, but typically compressed, discussion of III 18, Strauss appends a note in which he says that a full interpretation of the Discourses “could only be done in a commentary consisting of many volumes.”

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had come first to the other side, it would have had the same effect “against ours.” The contemptible modern victory may be compared to the inglorious ancient victory, as we expect, much to the advantage of the ancients. But the modern victory did not result from an error; it was only necessary for the winner to realize that the action of the enemy—which was not in itself erroneous, in contrast to the third example—was the same as his own. It was only necessary to realize that self-knowledge would lead to know ledge of the enemy. Of all “present and near” actions the most present and near are one’s ow n, or one’s

III 19

city’s, as in this “domestic and modern” example. One’s ow n actions are some¬ times the most difficult to understand, particularly when they are disguised from oneself as the actions of the enemy. But one’s ow n actions can be under¬ stood if they are seen to be identical w ith the enemy’s because under the same necessity: Men can govern themselves as they are governed by fortune. When men act under necessity, their intentions can be inferred from their actions because their intentions cannot alter their necessity. Now as men often fail to see that their enemy must act as they do, their ow n actions can be concealed from them—and also represented to some of them—in the actions of their enemy in battle, where both sides are opposed and yet under the same necessity. Whereas a captain in the field must fight his battles, a w riting captain can stage them for his captains and troops (see II 17). For this strategy, the hopeful or even boastful communication of the moderns is exemplary; only in the modern examples was oral or written communication to be found. With writing, the living and the dead can maintain contact not merely to express noble despair or nourish moderate expectations, as in the ancient examples, but to raise hopes that the losers and incompetents can win, as in the modern examples. Machiavelli’s army is divided (the first example); those living are out of communication w ith the dead (the second); both friends and enemies are half-defeated (the third); but his army can w in, sacking a deserted camp, by understanding the necessity it shares with the enemy. When the eaptain’s necessity of foreseeing the enemy’s plans has been ap¬ preciated, it w ill be seen that the multitude he commands does not consist only of those living now. The next chapter asks “w hether to rule a multitude, in¬ dulgence is more necessary than punishment,” and the answer will apply to a multitude of present and future generations. We note that both indulgence and punishment are said to be necessary, but the discussion has to proceed from their contrariety. The Roman republic was stirred up by enmities between the nobles and the plebs, Machiavelli begins; but when war intervened (was the war not planned? compare III 16), they sent out Quinctius and Appius Claudius with armies. Appius, for being cruel and rude in commanding, w as not obeyed by his men, so much that he fled from his province almost defeated. Quinctius, for being benign and of humane talent (ingegno), had obedient soldiers and bore off the

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victory, despite not having a deferent colleague (III 15). This Appius, we re¬ mark, was the son of the decemvir, and very much resembled him. Clearly he would have been successful if he had not resembled his father; and his father would have been successful in changing his own nature “by due degrees” (141) if he could have w aited for a son of contrary temper. Machiavelli concludes that it appears better to govern a multitude by being humane rather than proud, pious rather than cruel.14 Yet this conclusion encounters the contrary conclusion of Cornelius Tacitus, with whom many other writers agree. Machiavelli quotes the authoritative judgment of Tacitus, and then because of its authority, feels obliged to “save” it. There follow four other chapters on Tacitus’ judgment, connected by references to the following chapter at the end of the preceding, all together a series of chapters (III 19-23) in the course of w hich Machiavelli, w hile “saving” Tacitus’ judgment, persuades himself of the truth of it. The series has become known by Leo Strauss’s provisional name for it, “the Tacitean subsection,” and as Strauss says, the Tacitean quotation to w hich Machiavelli bow s appears to have been invented by Machiavelli.15 Tacitus is quoted first in the chapter on gratitude (I 29), and then three times thirteen chapters apart (II 26; III 6; III 19), in Latin, in translation, and in invented Latin. Machiavelli’s means of invention is translation. Now', considering how one can save one opinion and the other, Machiavelli draw s a distinction: either you are ruling men ordinarily companions or men always subject to you (II 4, 13). W hen they are your companions, you cannot simply use punishment or severity; and because the Roman plebs had equal power in Rome w ith the nobility, “one” w ho became prince for a time could not manage it with cruelty or rudeness. Roman captains who made themselves loved by their armies (here equated w ith the plebs) and who managed them w ith indulgence gained “better fruit” than those w ho made themselves extraordinar¬ ily feared, unless they w ere “accompanied by excessive virtue” as w as Manlius Torquatus (I 11; II 16; III 1). It is possible to manage companions w ith cruelty on the extraordinary occasions when even they are made your subjects. Machiavelli does not stress the need for fearful demonstrations here because he is “one” w ho is prince for a time, w ho must rule through others, and w ho cannot be cruel w ith excessive virtue. But w hoever commands subjects, he continues, of w hom Cornelius w as reasoning, must turn rather to punishment than to indulgence, so that the subjects do not become insolent. Yet this too must be done so as to avoid hatred, for being hated is never good for any prince. The w ay to avoid hatred is to leave alone the property of your subjects. No prince is desirous of shedding blood if rapine is not hidden under it—unless he is necessitated, which rarely happens. But this necessity comes always, Machiavelli says ambiguously, when rapine is mixed with it. He refers to 14. On these pairs, see P. 15, 17, 18, 21. 15. S., pp. 160-165. Lefort, p. 646. An opposite judgment ean be found in Tacitus, Annals 111 55.5. Note the ait: S., p. 325n 171.

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another treatise where this matter is discussed at length, perhaps chapter 17 of The Prince, in which he says that “men sooner forgive the death of their lather than the loss of their patrimony.” It is in your father that blood is mixed w ith property, but Machiavelli plans to kill the father without taking anyone’s patrimony. Machiavelli finishes saving Tacitus’ judgment by assigning it to the lesser ease. Quinctius merits more praise than Appius, he says, and the judgment of Cornelius deserves to be approved w ithin its limits, and not in the case of Appius. What Cornelius said applies to monarchies; Machiavelli spoke for re¬ publics. Saving both opinions implies saving both qualities, thus both regimes, and therefore republics especially; for republics combine not only the nobles and the plebs but also the “one” and his subjects16 or army. This one governs the multitude as “humane rather than proud, pious rather than cruel.” But in fact Machiavelli develops the contrast between humane and cruel, and we lose sight of proud and pious. One pair can be found in Machiavelli himself, w ho combines proud and humane on the model of the one who combines cruel and pious. Since “w e” have spoken of punishment and indulgence—that is, Machiavelli and his reader-companions—it does not appear superfluous to him to show how one example of humanity accomplished more w ith the Falisci than “arms” or than “every Roman force,” as we have it in the title of III 20, or than “every other human force,” as we are told later. The one example of humanity is Camillus’ treatment of a Faliscian schoolmaster, a foreigner. In the next two chapters, the material of contrast is dealing w ith foreigners, in place of govern¬ ing the Roman plebs in III 19. By this transition from w inning over the plebs to gaining foreigners, Machiavelli conveys the equivalence of domestic and foreign affairs which is, as we have seen, the private viewpoint characteristic of Book III. When Camillus w as besieging the city of the Falisci, a schoolmaster of many noble children, thinking to gratify Camillus and the Roman people, led them all out of the “land,” pretending to seek exercise, and delivered them to Camillus, saying that with them, that land w as given into his hands (on the ambiguity of “land,” see II 17). Camillus not only did not accept them, but even had the schoolmaster stripped and his hands tied, gave each child a stick, and had them bring him back to the “land” w ith many beatings. The citizens, for their part, were so pleased by the humanity and integrity of Camillus that, without wash¬ ing to defend themselves, they decided to give him the land. So the schoolmas¬ ter spoke truly after all. Machiavelli calls this a “true example” from w hich one should consider that “sometimes” a humane act full of charity can do more in the minds of men than a ferocious and violent act. Surely from the standpoint of the schoolmaster, Camillus’ action smacks more of punishment than indulgence, 16. Suggetti or sudditti, the author’s subjects.

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though Camillus did him the charity of not punishing him personally (compare the prudent indirection of Camillus in III 12). In Livy, the Falisci praise Camil¬ lus for his justice, which is based, as Camillus explains in a speech Machiavelli overlooks, on a natural sociability of man and revealed in rights of war that forbid such acts as those of the schoolmaster.17 Machiavelli makes Camillus’ justice into his humanity, not to say charity, piety, chastity, liberality, or moral virtue generally, and adds that one example of these has “many times” opened cities that arms, instruments of war, and every other human force could not open. Thus he effectively separates justice from the rest of moral virtue so that virtue is neither exigent nor unprofitable. Despite the fanfare for “one” example, Machiavelli says there are many other examples in the histories, and proceeds to add three of them to that of Camillus. He mentions the efficacious “liberality” of Fabricius, by which Pyrrhus was expelled from Italy when Roman arms were unable to expel him; for Fabricius revealed to Pyrrhus an offer to poison him made to the Romans by a familiar of his. Here is a case (according to Machiavelli, not Plutarch18), unlike that of Camillus, where virtue surely did w hat arms could not achieve—though it would hardly seem to be an example of the “simple virtue of a man” (III 1). Scipio \fricanus got more reputation from a notable instance of chastity than from the capture of New Carthage; the fame of the former action made all Spain friendly to him. Virtue is an aid to the virtuous, w hereas arms are the advantage ol the republic. Scipio’s fame show s how much this part in great men is desired by peoples and praised by w riters, both by those w ho describe the life of princes and by those who order how they ought to live (a distinction not made in 111 5). Apparently writers praise as peoples desire, and as we see next, they praise by describing how they ought to live as how they live. Xenophon demonstrates how many honors, victories, and good fame fell to Cyrus for being humane and affable, and gives no example of anything proud, cruel, or luxurious, nor of any other vice that spots the lives of men. In II 13, this lack of conspicuous vices in the life of Cyrus w as explained as Xenophon’s desire to show the necessity of fraud. Here we see that the one example of humanity has been puffed up into a fictional king by popular fame and w riters’ praise. Such is the consequence of teaching moral virtue. For w hen moral virtue is taught it is praised for its own sake, not for the good it brings to the republic; so it is not used instead of arms (Camillus) or where arms failed (Fabricius) but as against arms (Scipio) or without arms (Cyrus, as it seems). At the same time, the virtue peoples desire in great men becomes the standard of fraudulent praise by w riters; so men of moral virtue are encouraged to imitate kings and peoples taught to revere them.19 Moral virtue is contrary to the good of republics. Machiavelli’s approval of indulgence in III 19 suggests an argument for the rule 17. Livy, V 27. 18. Plutarch, Pyrrhus 21; Livy, Periochae XIII. 19. In P. 14 Scipio is said to have imitated Xenophon’s Life of Cyrus.

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of gentlemen, and in III 20, his praise of one example of humanity, with its expansion in three extra examples, reminds us of the teaching of classical politi¬ cal philosophy.20 The “effectual truth” of this teaching is portrayed in the example of the schoolmaster surrendering noble youths to the Romans. Machiavelli ties up his hands in back and furnishes sticks to beat him with, as he discusses how Hannibal gained great fame and great victories with “contrary modes.” The title makes a problem of the contrast: “Whence it arises that Hannibal, with a different mode of proceeding from Scipio’s, produced those same effects in Italy that the latter produced in Spain.” Then Machiavelli begins by restating the problem more abstractly: I suppose that some will marvel to see how some captain, despite having had a contrary life, may nevertheless have similar effects as “those” who lived in the way described above. So it appears that the cause of victories does not depend on the causes aforesaid, and that “these modes” do not bring you more force or fortune, since one can gain glory and reputation by contrary modes. “Those” and “these modes” apparently refer to Scipio, but they could also refer to Hannibal and his like, who have been described above in many places. The problem for the political scientist and for Machiavelli’s reader is that with contrary modes “some captain” can produce similar effects. How can this be? Machiavelli will discuss the problem in regard to the men described above, and to clarify what “I” wished to say (despite the abstractness, Machiavelli speaks for himself at the beginning), he compares the entry of Scipio into Spain w ith that of Hannibal into Italy: Scipio’s w ith humanity and piety, by w hich he made himself adored and admired by the peoples; Hannibal’s with cruelty, violence and rapine, and w ith every kind of infidelity, to the same effect because all the cities of Italy rebelled in his favor, and all the peoples followed him. This clarification overlooks Scipio’s successful assault on New Carthage before mak¬ ing friends w ith all of Spain (III 20), and it exaggerates the success of Hannibal in Italy (II 30, and later in this chapter). It tells us that, to a new' conqueror, adoring him is the same effect as rebelling in his favor. Thinking about this, one sees more reasons “inside.” The first is that human beings are desirous of new' things, as much those well-off as those badly-off. Maehiavelli repeats w hat he had said before (I 37) as from “ancient waiters,” that men get bored w ith the good, and grieve over the bad, and now' he says that it is true. What ancient w riters (ineluding Tacitus) say is, therefore, not necessarily true.21 The desire for new' things opens the doors to everyone in a region who makes himself head of an innovation, whether he is foreigner or native, such that however he proceeds, he makes great progress.22 Thus “inside” the con¬ trary modes of Scipio and Hannibal is their common character, revealed or 20. S., pp. 161-162. 21. S., p. 325n 172. 22. Marsilius, Defensor pads 1 16. 16.

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created by Machiavelli’s clarification, as head of an innovation. Besides this, men are driven by two principal things—love and fear; so one can command by making oneself loved as by making oneself feared, though the latter is “most times” (not alw ays, we shall see) more effectual. Yet it matters little to a captain which w ay he takes, provided that he is a virtuous man and that his virtue gives him reputation among men. Reputation puts a virtuous man among men, and we see that this second “inside” reason show s how the head of an innovation stays on after he first gets entry. The first reason says that “men” desire new things, but makes clear that most men, those who open the gates to the head of an innovation, merely desire men w ho desire new things. T his princely humor is found in all men in some degree, but they use the choice implied by this desire to put themselves under the necessity of the two drives, loving or fearing. But even the heat! of an innovation must put himself under this double necessity in order to get reputation. Despite the difference betw een princes and peoples, the princely humor produces or nourishes the popular humor. Machiavelli now considers w hat “great” virtue can do, since men are driven by love and fear. He says it cancels all those errors that arc made by being too much loved or too much feared. Krrors arc made because the two modes have “great inconveniences” that can ruin a “prince” (now equated with captains of republics). 11c w ho desires too much to be loved, how ever little he departs from the “true w ay” (here the middle w ay; compare 1112 especially), becomes despic¬ able; and another w ho desires too much to be feared, however little he exceeds “the mode,” becomes hateful. To hold to a middle way exactly is impossible because our nature does not consent to it, but “it is necessary to mitigate those things that exceed with an excessive virtue, as did I lannibal and Scipio.” Most men cannot help exceeding the true w ay or w ays because of their (“our”) nature, but some few can achieve a middle way or “the mode”23 w ith excessive virtue against their nature. Machiavelli illustrates the point with Scipio and 1 lannibal, both of whom were harmed by their mode of living as well as “exalted” (the exaltation of “reputed”). Scipio was harmed when his soldiers in Spain rebelled against him, together w ith part of his friends; and this happened because he w as not feared. For men are so restless that, however little the gate is opened to their ambition, they immediately forget all the love they had had for the prince because of his humanity. To remedy this inconvenience, we are told, Scipio was forced to use part of that cruelty he had avoided. His middle way consisted in borrow ing from the opposite extreme. As for Hannibal, Machiavelli can cite no particular example of harm from his cruelty and lack of faith, but one can suppose that Naples and many other lands that kept faith with the Roman people, did so for fear of it.24 One can also suppose that they were in fear of the Romans, but 23. Modo occurs thirteen times in HI 21; il modo occurs once, in the center. Ill 21 is the center of the Tacitean subsection. 24. Livy, XXII 32.

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Machiavelli wishes us to note that men may keep faith out of fear of an enemy. He says that Hannibal’s impious mode of living made him more hateful to the Roman people than any other enemy that republic ever had; so whereas they show ed Pyrrhus, with his army in Italy, w ho washed to poison him, they never pardoned Hannibal, even though “disarmed and dispersed,” such that they caused him to die. Thus only after Hannibal was old and defeated did his hatefulness catch up w ith him; and if his cruelty w as excessive what measure of “excessive virtue” would mitigate it? We need to find the missing parallel w ith Seipio’s middle way. In Livy, Scipio’s “cruelty” to the rebels in his army is presented as fearinspiring clemency, for only the leaders were punished; Scipio’s “cruelty” re¬ sembles Gamillus’ “humanity” in III 20. Is it not, then, possible to understand the impiety of the most famous enemy of Rome as “humanity”? The impiety could be Machiavelli’s, for Machiavelli know s how to correct the excess of cruelty or impiety. Hannibal suffered the “disadvantage” (incommodita) of being caused to die for being held “impious, a breaker of faith, and cruel.” We may surmise that the excess of cruelty or impiety is breaking faith, and w e must see how Machiavelli proposes to correct the excess w ith “excessive” or, as he says shortly, “extraordinary” virtue. In show ing how both Scipio and Hannibal were harmed by their characteristic modes, Machiavelli omits the notable speech that Livy puts in the mouth of each on the occasion. He does not tell us that Scipio’s men rebelled w hen they heard a false rumor that he w as dead, nor that Scipio asked them w hy they thought the empire of the Roman people would have expired with him.25 But this is obviously Maehiavelli’s difficulty: how can he keep faith w ith his soldiers after his death? Machiavelli does not tell us that Hannibal poisoned himself, and before he did so, gave a speech in which he himself blamed the Romans for having w arned King Pyrrhus of a poisoner but having caused him to be betrayed by his host. He calls himself “disarmed and betrayed,”26 whereas Machiavelli had called him “disarmed and dispersed.” Maehiavelli does not intend to poison himself—an example of his humanity—but he w ill perhaps imitate the Roman people in telling an Eastern king w hich of his familiars intends to poison him, and w ith this “liberality” expel him from Italy. Because he is disarmed, he will keep his intention “dis¬ persed,” and by this means succeed in w hat Hannibal achieved only by his inhuman cruelty, in managing an army composed of various men w ithout ever allow ing any dissension either among the soldiers or against himself. This “very great advantage” has been “admired by all the writers,” but as we may recall from chapter 17 of The Prince, they do not know the prineipal eause of it. Failing to assign the proper cause for Hannibal’s reputation, they do not appreciate that he kept his army in line w ith the terror of his person mixed w ith the reputation of his virtue. Did Machiavelli anticipate that our writers, w ho give reputation 25. Livy, XXVIII 28. 11. 26 Livv XXXIX 51. 10

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today, w ill fail to connect his charm w ith his virtue? He concludes that Hanni¬ bal and Scipio produced the same effect, one w ith laudable, the other w ith detestable things. Contrary causes produce the same effect through reputation, as virtue is loved or feared. Then Machiavelli introduces a milder contrast between two Roman citizens w ith diverse modes, but both of them laudable, which he does not think he should omit. The title announces that the harshness (durezza) of Manlius Torquatus and the kindness (comita) of Valerius Corvinus acquired for each the same glory. These two excellent captains were in Rome at one and the same time; so Rome contained their “very diverse” qualities despite Machiavelli’s argument at the end of the chapter that one is suited to a principality and the other to a republic. To gain the same glory, the two captains had equal virtue against the enemy, presumably not “kindness,” but they proceeded very diversely in regard to their armies. Manlius commanded them w ith every kind of severity; Valerius dealt w ith them in every humane way, full of a familiar domesticity. So one sees that to secure the obedience of their soldiers, one killed his son and the other (full of domesticity, see III 2) never hurt anyone, \gain Machiavelli has made Manlius’ “notable execution” of his son a deliberate action intended for its effect27 (see III 1), but now not merely for the sake of the republic but more for his own sake, in accordance with the increasing importance of “one” in Book III. For no Soldier ever refused to fight or rebelled from the two captains or was in any way out of harmony w ith their w ill, although the commands of Manlius w ere so harsh that all other commands “exceeding the mode” (III 21) were called “Manlian commands.”28 We note that Valerian dealings had the “same fruit” without the same evil reputation. Machiavelli sets four things to consider, of w hich the third is the obvious question of what cause could make the “diverse modes” produce the same effect. Before this he wants to consider how .Manlius was constrained to proceed so rigidly and how Valerius was enabled to proceed so humanely. Manlius, it appears, not only compelled but was compelled, and Valerius’ humane in¬ dulgence to his soldiers w as an indulgence to himself. W e might jump to the conclusion that Manlian commands are the prerequisite of Valerian indulgence, but it would be wrong to rest w ith this conclusion. The last consideration is which mode is better and more useful to imitate, although both modes were said to be praiseworthy and to have the same effect. This program is interrupted by a digression on the “nature of Manlius” w hich shows how in compelling others, he w as himself compelled. Vnyone consider¬ ing well the nature of Manlius from the moment that Livy begins to mention him (Machiavelli specifies) w ill find him a strong man, reverent to his father and fatherland, and very reverent to his superiors (tnaggiori). These three things are know n “from the death of that Frenchman,” from the defense of his lather 27. Livy, VIII 8. 1. 28. Livy, VIII 7. 22. Livy does not say the commands were excessive.

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against the tribune (I 11), and from his words to the consul before going to fight the Frenchman, that he would not fight without orders even if victory seemed certain. As Strauss has pointed out, Livy’s first mention of Manlius tells of his speech defect and of the bad treatment he suffered from his father because of it. Yet when the tribune made that treatment a charge against Manlius’ father, Manlius went to his father’s defense and succeeded, Livy says, because the plebs was impressed with his filial reverence despite his father’s harshness.29 Machiavelli here seems to identify Manlius’ filial reverence with his reverence to his fatherland, and what fatherland that might be is indicated by Manlius’ promise to the consul never to fight against orders, the very offense for which he later killed his own son, the very event from which he earned the reputation of giving “Manlian commands.”30 Manlius earned his name “Torquatus” from the chain he cut off the neck of “that Frenchman,”31 who Livy tells us had stuck out his tongue at Manlius in derision. Machiavelli’s Manlius reminds us of Moses—he w as slow' of speech, so the Lord spoke for him—and of David, who fought Goliath w ith his own arms, the arms of the Lord. These men gave hard commands in obedience to divine commands (or to necessity, II 8), for their speech was not their own and their harshness came in consequence of their reverence.32 Machiavelli says that such a man as Manlius, “so made for the rank that commands,” desires to find all men similar to himself; his strong spirit (animo) makes him command strong things, and after they are commanded, that same spirit wishes them to be observed. Here we find a connection between harshness to all men and reverence within oneself to a father w ho is really one’s own spirit. The “nature” of Manlius is obedience rather than command, but as Strauss notes, Manlius limited himself to taking that Frenchman’s necklace, in contrast to David, who cut off the head of Goliath. he discussion now moves from the reverence of executing another’s harsh commands to the knowledge necessary to issue one’s ow n. Machiavelli says a very true rule is that when one commands harsh things, it is necessary to make them be “observed” w ith harshness. To wish to be obeyed it is necessary to know how to command, and those know how' to command w ho compare their qualities with the qualities of whoever has to obey. If they see a proportion, they command; if a disproportion, they abstain. A “very prudent man”— possibly Aristotle, but more likely Machiavelli in I 40—used to say that to hold a republic with violence, it is necessary to have a proportion between w hoever forces and the one who is forced.33 When such proportion exists, Machiavelli 29. Livy, VII 4, 5. 7. 30. Livy, VIII 9. 10. 31. According to Strauss, “that Gaul.” We shall provisionally call this “Strauss’s error.” S., pp. 162-163. 32. Exodus 4:10; see P. 6, 13, 26. 33. Aristotle, Politics 1286b 27, refers to law ful kingship, not to holding a republic w ith violence; cf. W., II 187.

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adds, one can believe that the violence w ill be lasting; if the violated is stronger than the violator, one can expect it to cease “every day.” The last expression would again apply to an individual w ith himself, to that topic of human nature unmentioned in the Discourses—the soul. Machiavelli expects “every day” to see the human spirit, now reverent and “violated,” learn how to command the harsh things necessary for human and also humane government, as opposed to the commands of one’s father or superiors. To be prudent in commanding one must attend to proportion, and not desire to find all men like oneself (II 23). Returning from his digression, Machiavelli makes a distinction betw een ex¬ traordinary and ordinary commands to explain w hy Manlius w as constrained to proceed so rigidly. Whoever does not have the strength (fortezza) of spirit to command strong things should stay aw ay from extraordinary commands, and in ordinary ones he can indulge his humanity; for ordinary punishments are not imputed to the prince but to the law s and these orders. If ordinary commands allow humanity, we may infer that extraordinary commands, those commis¬ sioned by the prince, are superhuman or divine; and we may suppose that Machiavelli sees himself in this context as holding an ordinary command, in w hich he cannot order strong things by his strength of spirit. But he repeats that extraordinary commands are “useful” (not “necessary,” as in Ill 1) in a republic because they return its orders toward their beginning and to its ancient virtue. Returning toward the beginning w ill get a republic to its ancient virtue. “And if a republic w ere so happy that it often had, as w e said above, someone w ho with his example would renew the law s, and not only keep it from running to ruin but pull it backwards, it would be perpetual.” We have recently been told (III 17) that to order a perpetual republic is impossible because of the possible vengeance of an offended captain and similar disorders. Now the solution appears from a reconsideration of the relation between extraordinary and ordinary to show that the ordinary is not surely revived by the virtue of one citizen in a memorable execution “as w e said above” in III 1; for that remedy does not confront the danger of an offended captain discussed in III 17. It is necessary then, to put the extraordinary virtue of one into the ordinary orders of the republic, not by the example of one citizen whose execution is an “extrinsic accident" (III 1) but by the example of someone who renews the laws by “intrinsic prudence.” Machiavelli concludes his first point by saying that Manlius w as one of those whose harshness of command kept up military discipline in Rome, “compelled first by his nature, then by the desire he had that what his natural appetite had made him order be observed.” Manlius w as compelled because his natural appetite simply gave impetus to his strength of spirit, and he merely passed on its ambivalent harshness and reverence to others. He was thus compelled to have his commands “observed” in the two senses of “obeyed” and “seen” (I 14, 45; II 4, beg.). But Machiavelli, w ho has a “natural desire” (I pr.), has the prudence or knowledge to recognize that for him the two senses of “observe” must diverge. He himself cannot revive the law s by

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means of executions, and he must prudently take the path of Valerius unob¬ served although he betrays himself by using the word “observe” several times in the vicinity.34 Machiavelli’s soul is directed by his prudence or know ledge of proportion, which js_to be seen in his books; everyone else’s soul is sufficiently directed by the orders he has laid down to be observed. Thus the Discourses together with The Prince substitute for a treatment of the soul. Valerius could proceed humanely, since for him it was enough that the customs observed in Roman armies be observed. It was not necessary for him to punish transgressors, Machiavelli adds, in contradiction of II 26; or if it was, the punishment w as imputed to the orders and not to the “cruelty of the prince.” Thus Valerius could make “every humanity” arise from himself, so as to acquire rank (grado) w ith his soldiers. Manlius and Valerius, having the same obedience, could have the same effect w ith diverse methods. Those w ishing to imitate them could fall, into the vices of contempt and hatred of w hich “I speak above” concerning Hannibal and Scipio (III 21); this can be avoided with an “excessive virtue” in you, but not otherwise. “The same effect” means the same glory and the same obedience together, since one’s glory depends on the obedience of one’s soldiers. Machiavelli mixes up the vices that go w ith Hannibal and Scipio, perhaps to indicate that their virtues or modes need to be combined with an “excessive virtue.” I he remaining consideration, which runs at length to the end of the chapter, is which w ay is more praiseworthy (not “better and more useful to imitate,” as promised). Machiavelli believes the matter is disputable, because writers praise the one mode and the other. Those who write about how a prince should govern prefer the type of Valerius, for example Xenophon, “cited above by me” (in II 13, III 20: a signal honor from Machiavelli), w ho gave many examples of Cyrus’ humanity. Xenophon also gave many examples of Socrates’ humanity, but Machiavelli quotes a long passage of Livy’s which comments on Valerius’ humane speaking w ith his soldiers that suggests to us a captain who combines the w ays of Cyrus and Socrates. Machiavelli then gives the gist of Livy’s praise of Manlius w ithout quotation, for it is based on a “comparison of the forces” of two armies. By his severity in the death of his son, Manlius made the Roman army obedient (“obstinate” in II 16), and w as the cause of its victory over the Latins. So Machiavelli, considering everything that the writers say, finds it difficult to judge; but perhaps we w ill find it easier to judge because we can make a comparison between Machiavelli’s army and that of other writers and see that Machiavelli’s virtue makes the difference. “Nonetheless,” so as not to leave the matter undecided, Machiavelli distin¬ guishes the public good from private ambition, splitting apart what he had presented together at the beginning of the chapter. He “believes” that Manlius’ 34. “Obey” and its derivatives occur nine times in III 22, “observe” occurs eight times. “Nature” is used four times in regard to Manlius and not at all in regard to Valerius: Manlius’ nature is the nature of the laws.

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procedure is more praiseworthy and less dangerous for a “citizen w ho lives under the law s of a republic.” It “has no regard at any point for private ambi¬ tion, for by such a mode one cannot acquire partisans since one shows oneself alw ays harsh to everyone and loves nothing but the common good.” I Ie refers to his previous discussion of partisans in I 43, w here, however, he had asserted that all w ho have made “great profits” with armies used their partisans rather than mercenaries.35 That discourse was in the section on the Decemvirate, and its theme was invisible government by the Senate. Applying that theme to this discourse, we see that both Valerius and Manlius could rule in their ways without being “observed.” While Valerius could impute all necessary punish¬ ments to the laws and orders and thus escape the hatred reserved for a cruel prince, Manlius, by the very openness of his extraordinary severities, can avoid the accusation of private ambition usually lodged against one w ho gathers parti¬ sans. Such fears were in fact raised by Valerius through the particular benevo¬ lence by w hich he acquired soldiers, and they would have been raised by his ancestor Publicola if in those times the Romans had been corrupt and he had been a long time in command (1 28). Manlian severity can counteract the “bad effects” of Valerian benevolence so as to make possible the perpetual republic, but Machiavelli hints that the hidden partisanship of that severity must be heeded. Above all, the example of religions or sects tells us that severity is not incompatible with partisanship, and in 1 45, also in the section on the Decemvirate, Machiavelli described how Savonarola exposed “his ambitious and partisan spirit” by failing to observe the law w hen it worked against his partisans. But Machiavelli’s new modes and orders make all men partisans except for Machiavelli himself, w ho has made them and can stand behind them without making partisan interventions, llis benevolence takes effect through the recognition that severities are necessary because men are necessarily partisan. It can make all men Machiavellians w ithout making them partisans of Machiavelli. Thus again Machiavelli brings up Xenophon as show ing how a prince should take the way of Valerius and seek obedience and love in his soldiers and sub¬ jects, w hich he gets from “being an observer of the orders and being held virtuous.” Machiavelli reveals his own peculiar position in his summary: To be well liked as an individual and to have the army as one’s partisan conform with the status of a prince, but for a citizen to have his ow n partisan army does not conform to his other parts, w hich require that he live under the laws and obey the magistrates. Machiavelli is a benevolent prince w ho must live as a citizen in a republic. To end the chapter he inserts a story from the “ancient things” of the Venetian republic, otherwise unknow n, about a Venetian gentleman who by a personal intervention quieted a popular tumult that the magistrates had been unable to subdue (compare I 54). The love and obedience inspired by that 35. S., p. 326nl79.

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gentleman (who had previously been eaptain) generated such suspicion in the Senate that the Venetians (not the Senate) shortly afterwards secured them¬ selves against him either by prison or by death (see I 35, 36). After this warning against an illegal return in order to restore a corrupt republic, Machiavelli concludes that the procedure of Valerius is useful to a prince but pernicious to a citizen. It harms the fatherland by preparing the way to tyranny and harms the citizen by making him suspected of tyranny. Manlius’ procedure, on the con¬ trary, is harmful to a prince and useful to a citizen and especially to the fatherland—unless the hatred brought on you by your severity is increased by the suspicion which your other virtues, through their great reputation, bring on

Ill 23

you. A discussion of Camillus w ill show how the suspicion of tyranny attaches even and after all to Manlian severity. Machiavelli begins the next chapter, “For what cause Camillus was expelled from Rome,” by repeating the conclusion of the preceding chapter. “I conclude” becomes “we concluded,” and the repetition omits any reference to the dif¬ ference between prince and republic and thus to the advantage of Valerius’ procedure. Manlius’ procedure is now generally superior, not merely superior in the superior case of a republic; but it is not simply superior because it is “sometimes” harmful to oneself. This superiority can be proved very well through the example of Camillus, who is said to resemble Manlius rather than Valerius even though in III 20 he was held up as the exemplar of humanity. Machiavelli has been converted by stages to the Tacitean, or so-called Tacitean, judgment in favor of severity, first stated in opposition to his own, or his ow n lying, judgment in favor of humanity given in III 19. As we have seen, espe¬ cially in III 22 regarding Valerius, the conversion bears certain resemblances to Christian conversion. But it is a conversion from the way of love and peace to the way of fear and war, and as w e shall see, it is done by pride and ambition, not by humility.36 To make this pretended conversion complete, Machiavelli must avoid the harm to oneself which comes from being suspected of tyranny, and overcome the cause for w hich Camillus w as expelled from Rome. What w as the cause? Machiavelli quotes Livy that Camillus’ soldiers hated and marveled at his virtue. He w as held marvelous because of his care, pru¬ dence, greatness of spirit (as compared to Manlius’ strength of spirit, III 22), and the good order he used in managing his armies; he was hated for being more severe in punishing his soldiers than liberal in rewarding them. Perhaps the cause of being hated by his soldiers w as the cause of their good order, but we are surprisingly given three causes, said to be adduced by Livy, for the hatred of Camillus. In fact Livy appears to give only one cause, the first cited; another author, Plutarch, supplies the three causes, though in a different order.37 The first was that Camillus applied to the public the money raised from sale of the 36. Cf. D. I 41; II 14. S., pp. 164, 326nl78; and “Niccolo Machiavelli” in Leo Strauss and Joseph Cropsey, eds., History of Political Philosophy, 2d ed. (Chicago, 1972), p. 290. 37. Livy, V 32. 8; Plutarch, Camillus 7.

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goods taken from the Veientes, instead of dividing it with the booty. Also, he had his triumphal chariot pulled by four w hite horses, of which it w as said that because of his pride he wished to be equal to the Sun (Livy says, to Jupiter and to the Sun). Third, he made a vow to give Apollo the tenth part of the spoils from the Veientes; and to fulfill it he had to take from the hands of his soldiers something they already had. Machiavelli then discourses on what things make a prince hateful to the people. The chief thing is to deprive them of something or someone useful ((Turn utile). This is very important because w hen one is de¬ prived of useful things one never forgets and every least necessity you re¬ member; “and because necessities come every day, you remember them every day.” So Machiavelli says, but what of taxes for the public and sacrifices to gods or God taken every day out of men’s hands and w ith no regard for their neces¬ sities, but less overtly than by Camillus? Indeed this very incident was used in I 55 to illustrate how much goodness and religion were in the Roman people. “The other thing” that made Camillus hated—his appearing proud and puf¬ fed up—seems necessary to explain the “chief thing.” Such pride and pomp cannot be more hateful to peoples, especially to free peoples, even though no disadvantage arises from them. So a prince should guard himself from them as from a shoal (said of w riting in conspiracies, III 6), for to draw hate on oneself without profit is a policy altogether rash and imprudent. Then it could be prudent for a prince to be hated.38 But if a prince could succeed in equating himself w ith a god, he would not be hated for his swollen pride; on the contrary, he would receive willing gifts out of men’s necessities every day. When men share in the prince’s swollen pride, they do not notice his deprivations. We learn from the three causes that only noticeable pride causes a prince to be hated. A man who makes himself the equal of natural things or cosmic gods by con¬ templating them would not be noticed, vet he would have magnanimity beyond that of any captain driven in triumph through the people. In describing Camil¬ lus’ triumph Machiavelli adds the four white horses and omits reference to Jupiter. He reminds us of Biblical severity in the four horsemen of Revelations, and to replace that severity he sets up a contrast between the Sun, a cosmic god, and Apollo, to whom in pretended obedience Brutus kissed the earth (III 2). Money for the public, w hich w as the first cause of Camillus’ being hated, w as to be used for his vow to Apollo, the third cause. In 11 29 we saw Camillus, the most prudent of all Roman captains (III 12), identified with Machiavelli; here the lesson of his seeming imprudence is that a prince may act as a god, but should not appear to be a man acting as a god (the second cause). He can rule Rome by acting for the public even if he is expelled from Rome tor magnanimity or impiety. Like Camillus, Machiavelli is severe to his ow n soldiers but humane to the enemy, and thus he combines the w ays of Manlius and Valerius w hile conceal38. Cf. P. 17 and 19 for a similar retraction on the harm to a prince of being hated.

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III 23

ing his own pride behind his public' motive, through w hich, again like Camillus,

Ill 24

he opposes the division of the city (I 53). Machiavelli’s vow to Apollo signifies his recognition of everyday necessities, by w hich he is bound to desire common benefit to everyone, and it conceals his desire to be equal to the Sun, w hich is hateful to free peoples though it does them no harm. In this chapter, Machiavelli indicates his agreement with the ancient philosophers that there is magnanim¬ ity, or in his term “greatness of spirit,” beyond political ambition, but he thought, distinguishing himself from them, that this magnanimity could be the basis for political ambition. His vow to Apollo reminds us of Socrates’ service to the Delphic oracle, but without the nay-saying diamonion that kept Socrates from entering into politics.39 In the heading of the next chapter, Machiavelli takes a definite stand on an historical question still disputed today, “The prolongation of commands made Rome a slave,” only to retract it at the end of the chapter.40 As the discussion develops, his confidence is disturbed by the example of Cincinnatus, and he wishes musingly that the goodness and prudence in that consul had been in all Roman citizens. Perhaps the example of Cincinnatus could have been used, perhaps it could still be used, to make Rome free or at least—the retracting conclusion—to postpone the onset of its slavery. If one “considers well” the proceeding of the Roman republic, one sees that two things w ere causes of its dissolution, the contentions over the Agrarian law s and the prolongation of commands. If these things had been well understood from the beginning, and the proper remedies applied, free life (vivere libero) would have been longer and perhaps quieter. Machiavelli speaks as if the main¬ tenance of free life depended on the survival of the Roman republic. He refers to the contentions over the Agrarian law s but not to his discussion of them in I 37, w here he had mentioned reasons w hy the contentions had not been fatal sooner but not remedies for holding off destruction until later. “Tw o things” that w ere cause are not “two causes,” and the reader may be directed to the interpretation of I 37 for its consonance with this chapter.41 Although prolongation of com¬ mands never produced a tumult, yet one sees how7 much harm was done by authority that citizens took “through such deliberations.” That citizens deliber¬ ated who accepted prolonged authority Machiavelli infers from the ‘Vise and good” Lucius Quintius (Cincinnatus42), whose goodness is show n in a notable example. Once when an accord has been reached betw een the plebs and the Senate, the plebs prolonged the commands of the tribunes for a year in order to check the ambition of the nobles; and w hen for the sake of rivalry the Senate wished to

39. Plato, Apology of Socrates 31c-e. 40. See Guicciardini in loc. 41. See John G. A. Pocock, The Machiavellian Moment (Princeton, N.J., 1975), p. 211. 42. Cincinnatus is given his family name only in III 25, not in this chapter, where NM washes to harp on the plebeian side of his character.

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38 7

prolong the consulate of Lucius Quintius, he rejected “this deliberation” al¬ together. He said, Machiavelli says, that one should wish to abolish bad exam¬ ples, not increase them w ith another bad example; but Livy says he said that the Senate was mistaken in following the example of the plebs rather than setting an example for it.43 Machiavelli turns a reproach to the nobles’ pride into a counsel against resisting evil with evil: the notable example of goodness consists merely in not increasing the number of bad examples. If this goodness and prudence had been in “all Roman citizens” (not only in the “other citizens” who took prolonged authority), then the custom of prolonging magistracies would not have been introduced, from w hich came the prolongation of commands. Machiavelli traces the error in foreign or colonial policy to the domestic contentions, and the failure of the nobles to be w ise anti good like Cincinnatus to the failure of all Roman citizens to be good and prudent. But the Romans did become good in the sense of not resisting evil with evil w hen they became Christians. And w hy was it impious to resist evil w ith evil? It was impious because God’s command over men was prolonged to resist human evil after death. When resistance to evil becomes evident after all, prudence is added to goodness in their Machiavellian meaning. This meaning, as always, applies first to himself; for, as we have seen, his problem is to prolong his command after his own death. In this “thirteen” chapter (the one hundred seventeenth) he shows how Camillus can keep his vow to Apollo by borrow ing from Christianity. In doing so, he again interprets Christianity naturally, in the politics of the Roman republic. He cites Publius (actually Publilius) Philo as the first to have his command prolonged; he was in charge of the siege of Palaepolis, w hich the Romans took conspiratorially by dealing with those inside the city (II 32). Machiavelli does not mention the second of Philo’s two distinctions: I le was also the first to enjoy a triumph after the expiration of his term.44 Such prolongation, Machiavelli repeats, in time made Rome slave, even though the Senate’s motive was public utility. For as the Romans went abroad (si discostarono) w ith their arms, this device appeared more necessary and they used it more. Phis policy had two disadvantages—that as few er men exercised command, reputation w as restricted to a few (perhaps even to one) and that a citizen commanding an army for a long time gained that army to himself and made it partisan to him, for the army forgot the Senate and recognized that chief, as with Marius, Sulla, and Caesar. It w as not the humanity of Valerius that made the armies partisan (III 22) but a bad or dubious institutional arrangement. Machiavelli concludes that if the Romans had never prolonged offices and commands, they would not have come so quickly to such power, for both their acquisitions and their servitude would have come later. This implies, contrary to w hat was just said, that offices w ere prolonged in the heyday ot the republic, 43. Livy, III 21. 44. Livy, VIII 26. 7.

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and, contrary to II 6, that prolonged commands were an advantage for making acquisitions. We can surmise that short-term commands may be combined with long-term commands when the short term of a founder is prolonged by his foresight and prudence. Last, we observe that lacking prolonged commands, the Romans would have come to their servitude “later” but would not have escaped it. This may suggest that if they can achieve vivere libero, they must do so under someone’s command that is prolonged somewhat in the way of Caesar, who with his partisan army “was able to seize his fatherland.” Rome must not again forget the “Senate” (see II 33), and it will therefore be in a sense slave even to its

Ill 25

liberator (III 7). “On the poverty of Cincinnatus and of many other Roman citizens,” III 25 is the central chapter of the central section and the central chapter of Book III. We take it to be Machiavelli’s discussion of the second part of his vow' to Apollo, his poverty. (The first was his humility, III 23). In his poverty Cincinnatus is with the many, and this chapter (like III 23) begins with “we.” But his poverty is the consequence of his magnanimity, not of necessity, as with the many; it recalls the “voluntary poverty” discussed by Marsilius.45 “We have reasoned elsew here” (I 37; II 6, 19; III 16) that the most useful thing in ordering a free life is to keep the citizens poor. We had also reasoned in those same places that it was useful or necessary to keep the public rich, but Machiavelli now' says there was “very great poverty” in Rome four hundred years after she was built. He expresses doubt as to which order had the effect of keeping the citizens poor, especially since the Agrarian law; was so much op¬ posed; but, he says, one cannot believe that any other order had more effect to see that poverty did not impede the way to any rank or honor whatever, and that virtue was sought in whichever house it inhabited. So this way of life made riches less desirable. Explaining the opposition to the Agrarian laws (I 37), Machiavelli had said the Roman nobility preferred property to honor; but his theme now7 is the virtue responsible for voluntary poverty wherever it may be found, including but not confined to the House of God. We are now entertained w ith a touching rendition of the story of Cincinnatus, whom the Romans, needing a dictator to rescue an army incompetently led (compare I 20), found working with his own hands at his small villa. This thing w as celebrated “w ith golden words” by Livy, Machiavelli says, and he quotes in Latin Livy’s reproach on this occasion to those who despise all human things in comparison to riches and think there is no place for great honor or virtue unless accompanied by overflowing wealth. Cincinnatus, on his small villa of four acres (Machiavelli repeats this fact tw ice; see II 7 on the slightly smaller size of a Roman colonist’s plot, fifty-one chapters earlier), picked up his toga and as¬ sumed the office of dictator, w hich of course had the effect of resuming the consulship that he had recently laid down and refused to prolong, to Machiavel¬ li’s applause (III 24; compare I 34). 45. Defensor pads II 11, 12.

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Cincinnatus went to free the besieged consul; and having done this, he re¬ fused to allow the besieged army to share in the plunder. In Italian, he says to them: “I do not w ish you to share in the plunder of those whose plunder you were.” Then addressing the consul whom he demoted to lieutenant, he said: “Stay in this rank until you learn how to be consul.”46 He made his master of horse someone who had been serving on foot and Machiavelli asks us to note the honor that was paid—not merely open—to poverty in Rome. On the contrary, Livy says that the master of horse had been serving on foot because he was poor.47 Moreover, Cincinnatus, a patrician, had been forced into poverty by a heavy fine exacted from him because of the violent behavior of his son.48 Machiavelli’s Cincinnatus seems to instruct anyone w ho might w ish to live by Livy’s golden words that plunder must be reserved for one’s own army and that knowledge, not poverty, gives title to rule. Machiavelli, in taking Livy’s own words, seems to take Irom Livy the office of correcting golden words with factual truths and thus to imply that his book, not Livy’s, contains what a consul must know .49 We almost hear him addressing Livy and Livy’s Romans in the words quoted from Cincinnatus. For Livy’s Romans came to grief, and have had to be rescued by Machiavelli’s dictatorship exercised from his small villa. Machiavelli finds another instance of noble poverty on w hich to expatiate, that of Marcus Rcgulus. He had been cited in II 18 for fighting elephants w ith infantry (though he lost) and in III 1 for “rare and virtuous examples.” Now he is said to have asked the Senate, while he was in Africa, that he might return to take care of his villa (not so small), which was being ruined by his workers. Ignoring Livy’s opinion that this was Regulus’ excuse to get the Senate to send a successor,50 Machiavelli explains “two very notable things” in the request. One is poverty, and how “those citizens,” apparently Roman captains, were content with it and w ith gaining honor from war and left everything useful for the public. For if “he,” apparently Regulus, had thought of enriching himself from the w ar, he would not have cared w hether his fields w ere destroyed. But it “he” had been content with poverty, neither would he have cared about his own fields—unless “his own fields” are the realm of his generosity of spirit, the second very notable thing in this example. Machiavelli now composes a paean to the generosity of spirit of “those citizens” which would be ridiculous exaggera¬ tion if applied to ordinary captains but is an impressive description of the generosity of “wishing to be equal to the Sun” mentioned in 111 23. Such citizens, he says, w hen posted to an army, w ith their greatness of spirit rose above every prince; they esteemed neither kings nor republics; nothing frightened or confused them; and when they returned to private life, they became sparing, humble, careful of their small faculties, obedient to the magis46. 47. 48. 49. 50.

Livy mentions the spirit of a consul, not his know ledge, III 29. 2. Livy, III 27. 1. Livy, III 13. 10. S., pp. 149-150. Livy, Periochae XVIII.

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trates, reverent to their superiors (like Manlius, III 22), sueh that it seems impossible that the same spirit could undergo such change. It still seems impos¬ sible to those who believe that Machiavelli, working at his small villa in San Casciano, yearned with an ordinary thirst for renewed employment as an ordi¬ nary captain, exercising only his “small faculties.” This poverty lasted until the times of Paulus Emilius, which were almost the last happy times of the republic, when a citizen enriched Rome with his triumph and yet remained poor himself. Thus Machiavelli introduces the third example of the chapter, contradicting his statement in III 1 that Rome became corrupt after the times of Marcus Regulus (see III 16 on Paulus). Paulus, in honoring whoever had conducted himself well in war, gave to his son-in-law a silver cup, which was the first silver ever to be in his house. With this act Paulus may have extended, or shown how to extend, Rome’s happy times; for he revealed his generosity in giving, not in display like Camillus (III 23). It is clear that not Paulus Emilius but his son-in-law was poor, and we can find in Plutarch’s version of the story that the plunder Paulus gave away consisted of a king’s library as well as the silver cup, and that he gave the library to his sons.51 Machiavelli’s sons-in-law will have silver cups, but the king’s library will be reserved for his sons. He says one could show with a long speech how much better are the fruits of poverty than those of riches, how poverty has honored cities, provinces, and sects, and how riches have ruined them; but this matter has been celebrated many times by other men. With the allusion to “sects”

Ill 26

Machiavelli takes note of the ambiguity of voluntary poverty, religious or philosophical. It appears that philosophy must borrow from the religious vow of poverty to achieve the apparently impossible mutazione di animo necessary to seeking the honors of this world by renouncing them. In itself, philosophy esteems neither kings nor republics, but in the example of religion, philosophy finds the perfect reconciliation of public and private generosity. If Machiavelli shows in III 25 how the same animo can change from public to private concerns, he shows in the following chapter how this ability might be harmful and useful in politics. The chapter, “how a state is ruined because of women,” begins with a contention in the city of Ardea between the patricians and plebs “because of a marriage.” When a certain rich woman had to marry, a plebeian and a noble both asked for her; and since she had no father, her tutors wished to “join” her to the plebeian, and her mother to the noble. Then all the nobility armed themselves in favor of the noble, and all the plebs in favor of the plebeian; the plebs was defeated, left Ardea, and sent to the Volsci for help; and the nobles sent to Rome. The Romans came, caught the Volsci between the city {terra) and their own land, and having starved them out, forced them to surren¬ der. Then they marched into Ardea, killed all the heads of the sedition, and “settled the affairs of that city” (a Livian Machiavellianism).52 51. Plutarch, Aemilius Paulus 28. 52. Livy, IV 10. 6.

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Machiavelli tells us that in this text several things are to be noted, but men¬ tions only the first thing in this chapter and one other in the next. The first is to see how women are the causes of many ruins, have brought great damage to those who govern a city, and have caused many divisions in them. We see uin this history of ours” (Machiavelli as it were appropriated Livy’s history in III 25) that the “excess” committed against Lucretia deprived the Tarquins of their state, and the other excess against Virginia deprived the Decemvirate of their authority. Machiavelli obviously avoids expressing moral outrage, as if he were chastely interested only in the cause of divisions; but we can doubt even his attribution of cause. In III 5 Machiavelli treats the rape of Lucretia as a mere “accident” used by Brutus against the Tarquins, and he discussed Appius Claudius’ mistakes in I 40 without mentioning the “excess” committed against Virginia. Machiavelli himself seems to commit an excess against women in blaming them for many divisions. Let us return to the “text” where several things are to be noted. As compared to Machiavelli’s account, Livy describes the Ardean woman in dispute as beautiful, not as rich; he blames the disputing men, not the woman; and he attributes the cause to the rivalry of factions, to human beings ultimately as opposed to nature or angry gods.53 Machiavelli’s changes have the effect of raising the question, according to what principle should men and women marry. The tutors favored the plebeian: that would be because the woman was not noble. The mother favored the noble: that would be because her daughter w as rich even though not noble. Should the principle of marriage be nobility (paradoxically sustained by the plebeians) or riches? Since the two parties joined the conflict, the dispute over a marriage revived the dispute over the “state” of a republic. For a republic is a “mixed body” (III I) and it must be mixed, like this marriage, according to nobility or riches. In this example, the victory of the Romans established the principle of riches, contrary to their esteem for poverty alleged in III 25 but in accordance w ith their preference for property over honor alleged in I 37. Their state was not ruined, it was profited,54 because of “women.” At this point Machiavelli brings Aristotle to his support, his only mention of Aristotle in the Discourses. I le does not have Aristotle counsel us, like the tutors, in favor of nobility over riches. On the contrary, he cites him on the “first causes” of ruin to tyrants, one of which is the tyrant’s having injured another on account of women—w horing them, or raping them, or breaking up marriages; and he refers to the chapter “where we have treated conspiracies” (III 6). There Machiavelli took up these excesses as injuries to honor; in the passage referred to, Aristotle speaks of the insolence of tyrants and women.55 Thus this chapter (III 26) on women, which contains the only reference to Aristotle, invites com53. Livy, IV 9. 3, 11. S., pp. 160-161, 311 n 16, 326nl83, 341 n 167, 343nl92. 54. Livy, IV 10. 6-7. 55. Aristotle, Politics 1314b 27; see 1303b 17-1304a 18.

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parison to II 26 on insults, where Tacitus’ warning against “pungent jokes” is quoted without identification, and to I 26 on the new prince or tyrant, which contains a very pungent joke of Machiavelli’s using a tacit quotation from the New Testament. We suggest that the “women” of this chapter are philosophers who advise anyone (whoring), violate morality (raping), and subvert existing regimes (breaking marriages). Their insults against conventional morality are necessary to the good they might do, but they must be warned not to make light of riches and food. Their tutoring in nobility has the actual effect of promoting the cause of plebeians among men, inasmuch as men cannot measure up to the standard. Machiavelli writes of riches and food, not of matter and form: as the tyrant’s “chastity” consists in not injuring others on account of women, so Machiavelli’s chastity, the third part of his vow to Apollo, is abstaining from philosophy even more than from morality. He abstains, that is, as much as is humanly possible. Nonetheless, Machiavelli’s abstention from morality is remarkable here. He addresses “absolute princes and governors of republics,” and warns them of harm and contempt “for their state and their republic” when a remedy for disorders arising from such accidents is applied too late, as happened to Ardea. The Ardeans, attempting to reunite, had to send for outside help, which is “one great principle of a near servitude.” In the modern world—there is no modern example in the chapter—where republics are divided and dependent on outside help, there seems to be no alternative to such servitude. Indeed, the fall of the republic of the Ardeans illustrates a chapter whose title speaks of the ruin of a “state.” It is likened to the fall of tyrannies from the excesses done to Lucretia and Virginia, and these are not any tyrannies but tyrannies overthrown for the sake of establishing or restoring republics. The remedy is explained with Aristo¬ tle’s advice to tyrants and concludes with a warning against the “near servitude”

III 27

imposed by the Roman republic. As we saw in I 41 and III 5, Machiavelli dissociates republican virtue from chastity, or from moral virtue; here he assimi¬ lates it to the tyrant’s prudent restraint from insulting others. Machiavelli, not being a woman who causes divisions in cities, invites us to consider the other notable thing in the sedition at Ardea, the way to reunite cities. The next chapter is entitled “How one has to unite a divided city, and how that opinion is not true that to hold cities, one needs to keep them divided.” The opinion is modern and Florentine, and against it Machiavelli asserts the more summary Roman method of killing the leaders of the tumults. But in this chapter he also asserts the natural partisanship of men, and as the Roman method hardly seems nonpartisan, unity cannot be found in partisan conquest. So how can men be governed unless by keeping them divided either with divisive arts or in conquest? Unity must come from a neutral source, of which Machiavelli has given us an example in III 26, where he urged republics to borrow Aristotle’s advice given to tyrants. The example of the Roman consuls “reconciling the Ardeans with one

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another” is the “mode” with which to compose a divided city—by killing the leaders of the tumults. Or is this mode of the conqueror (compare 1127) near to servitude and anyway not open to Machiavelli as he surveys the “divided city” of the modern world? He says it is necessary to take one of three modes: kill the leaders, remove them from the city, or make them make peace together under the obligation of not hurting one another. This last mode he rejects as more harmful, less certain, and more useless, because a peace by force cannot last when much blood has been spilled and men see each other every day, and every day new causes of quarrel can arise from their “conversation.” His reasoning seems to mix bloody and bloodless quarreling, for one can of course converse every day with someone whom one does not see every day—for example, as we know from the most famous of Machiavelli’s letters, with an author.56 Machiavelli says he cannot give us a better example of this point than the city of Pistoia, which now becomes the modern example missing in III 26. Fifteen years before it w as divided as it still is, but then it was in arms and now the arms have been put dow n. 1 his is its unity. The Florentines, w ho had to compose the city, used the third mode and made greater tumults and scandals; then they turned to the second mode, removing the leaders of the parties and putting them in prison or confining them in various places. W ith this they succeeded in the accord that exists today. The first mode w ithout doubt would have been more secure, but “such executions” have something grand and generous in them which a weak republic cannot achieve, since it can be led to the second mode only “w ith fatigue.” These are the errors “I spoke of at the beginning,” made by the “princes of our times” who have to judge great things. They should w ish to hear how those who had to judge similar cases in antiquity governed, Jyutjthe Weakness of present men, caused by their w eak education and slight acquain¬ tance w ith things, makes them “judge the ancient judgments partly inhuman, partly impossible.” I bis seems a too severe judgment (note again the ambiguity of judging by the intellect and as punishment; I pr.; II 23) by Machiavelli on his own republic and its princes, including himself-—all the more if w e look outside the Discourses to a short paper Machiavelli w rote on this affair, in w hich he made no mention of the first, ancient mode of composing a divided city.57 Also, he does not say here, as he did “at the beginning” (I pr.), that modern weakness w as brought on partly by the “present religion,” and there he did not say that ancient judgments are found “inhuman” by the moderns. Certain modern opinions are “altogether removed [discosto] from the truth,” Machiavelli continues, like the one that the wase men of our city used to utter a while ago: that Pistoia must be held w ith parties and Pisa w ith fortresses. Both are useless, but Machiavelli w ill put aside fortresses since he has spoken of them at length above, and w ill discuss the uselessness of keeping divided lands (terre) “which you have to govern.” The examples so far in this and the preceding 56. Letter of December 10, 1513, Opere VI, 304. 57. Ragguaglio delle cose fatte dalla repubblica fiorentina per quiet are le parti di Pistoia, Opere II 25-28.

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chapter refer to the government of conquered territories by a republic; now Machiavelli addresses an individual, “either prince or republic,” as if this indi¬ vidual were in the situation of governing not his fatherland but his acquisitions. Considering such an individual, we begin to suspect that the modern opinion “altogether removed from the truth” is not as wrong as alleged; for Machiavelli is as much a master of the dubious absolute as of the doubting qualification. In II 21 and II 25 he had praised the Florentine method of holding divided cities, as in II 24 he had spoken of fortresses; but now he wishes to reconsider the topic from his own point of view. How can he hold the divided lands he has to govern? He can kill the leaders of the tumults “without fatigue” by the inhuman method of letting them die; he can remove the leaders (the priests and the philosophers) by isolating them; and he can make them make peace with each other. The remainder of the chapter is devoted to the third mode, which he approaches from the rear by showing how useless it is. You cannot hold divided cities, first, because it is impossible that you keep both parties friendly. “For from nature it is given to men to take sides in any division, and to be pleased with one rather than another.” So if you have “one part of that land ill contented,” you will lose it in the first war that comes, because it is impossible to protect a city that has enemies outside and in. If it is a republic you govern, you divide your city (la tua citta) by governing a divided city; for you never make friends when you must often vary the government now with one humor, now’ with another. And of necessity you divide your own republic (la tua republica), as we know from Biondo, who said: “While the Florentines schemed to reunite Pistoia, they divided themselves.” Biondo is one of three modern authors quoted in the Discourses, the others being Dante and Lorenzo de’ Medici; and he, a papal secretary, is quoted to refute the opinion of the “w ise men of our city.” Perhaps it is not altogether useless or impossible to govern a divided city if you think of the methods of the Church and consider the example to follow. In 1502, w hen Arezzo and other territories were taken from the Florentines, a certain “monsignor di Lant” w as sent by the king of France to restore these lost lands. Lant found in every castle he visited men who said that they were of the party of the Marzocco (the Florentine lion), and he greatly blamed this division. He said that if in France one of the king’s subjects said he was of the king’s party, he would be punished; for this would signify that there were enemies of the king in the land; but the king w ishes “all lands to be friendly to him, united and w ithout parties.” Maehiavelli advises both republics and tyrants, and wants all lands friendly to him. But owing to his weakness, the “weakness of w hoever is lord,” he cannot rule them directly “with force and with virtue,” but must have recourse to arts (Industrie), or to modes and opinions “diverse from the truth.” Note that they are not altogether removed from the truth, and that they are related to truth, not merely to effectiveness. Machiavelli’s arts, however, w ill work in adversity and in hard times, as well as in quiet times. He will imitate

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III 28

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the impartiality and indirectness of the Church’s rule and the this-worldliness of the king’s. The Church has a party in this world, the Guelfs, which also claims to represent the other world as a whole; and Machiavelli apparently intends to reverse that ordering, representing this world as a whole against the claims of the other world. But since this world is divided by nature into parties, he must govern this world with parties and the other world with fortresses. To do so, he need not govern through “Machiavellians” under that name. The next chapter, the one hundred twenty-first, shim s in what way the world must be governed in unity. Although it does not mention the Church or Christianity, it considers the false unity that has been imposed on mankind, and altogether constitutes one of Machiavelli’s most important statements of his strategy regarding Christianity, comparable to I 52. As in III 27 he reconsidered the remarks he made on parties in the early chapters of Book I, speaking now for the unity behind that diversity, so in III 28 he adds to his early statements on accusation also in the interest of unity. I le warns against the tyranny to which reputation from one pious work can arise, and indicates that he does not intend for himself the unity to which such reputation gives rise.58 The title reads: “One should pay attention to the works of citizens, for many times under a pious work a beginning of tyranny is hidden.” In it one should pay attention to the emphasis on works, and of course take note that despite the corrosive analysis of III 26, the distinction between republic and tyranny reap¬ pears. The discourse is on “one Spurius Melius” already mentioned in III 1, w ithout his first name, as having suffered a notable execution. When Rome was afflicted with hunger, and the public supplies were insufficient, Spurius Melius, a rich man in those times (compare III 25), took heart (ammo) to provide grain privately and thus to gain rank {grado) w ith the plebs. I le gained such favor w ith the people from this that the Senate, thinking of the inconveniences to which his “liberality” (not “pious work”) might give rise, and to suppress him before he became stronger, created a dictator against him and had him killed. Machiavelli notes that often works appearing “pious” that cannot reasonably be condemned become “cruel” and very dangerous for a republic it not corrected at an early hour.59 Private virtue, public vice. “To discuss this thing more particu¬ larly,” he immediately connects apparent piety to “reputed citizens.” He says that a republic cannot stand w ithout such citizens, yet their reputation is the “cause of the tyranny of republics.” Kspecially by giving reputation for piety, it seems, republics invite tyranny, for a “pious work” disguises the self-interest of the worker in the interest of the gods more effectively than a liberal gilt, w hich has a human source. To the Senate, the pious work was mere inconvenient liberality because Spurius Melius gave aw ay grain. But suppose he had given away nothing or even withheld grain from the people in order to punish them, like Coriolanus (I 7)? 58. “Reputation” occurs seven times in III 28. 59. Cf. P. 16 (end).

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Then Machiavelli says, in the ambiguity characteristic of his notion of repub¬ licanism, that a republic must be ordered so that citizens are reputed for a reputation that helps, and does not hurt, the city and its liberty. Reputation may be gained “in effect” in two modes, public and private. “Public modes are when one, counseling well, working better [meglio] for the common benefit, acquires reputation.” One must open the way to this honor, and offer rewards for counsels and for deeds (now added). When such reputations are genuine and simple, they are never dangerous; but private ways are very dangerous and altogether harmful. Private ways (vie) are doing benefit to some other private person, such as lending money, marrying off daughters (in contrast to breaking up marriages, III 26), defending from magistrates, and other favors. In these favors we can recognize the dispositions of philosophers in the classical tradi¬ tion, presupposing substance, using the species to elevate the genus above the visible, and securing the human good. Now the ways or avenues are in effect two but in intention one, because both public and private ways aim at the private goal of reputation. Moreover, the distinction between doing better for the common benefit and doing benefit to this or that private person does not reach the case of Spurius Melius, who seemed to benefit the people. To reach this case, Machiavelli says that a well-ordered republic must open the ways to whoever seeks favors through public ways, and close them to w hoever seeks favors through private ways, as did Rome. Rome gave triumphs and other honors to the former, and ordered accusations to protect itself against the latter. And w hen accusations were not enough, and the people was blinded by a “species of false good” (falsa bene), it ordered a dictator, w ho “w ith kingly arm” (I 18, 34)—not w ith reverence (I 53)—brought things back to the mark, as it did to punish Spurius Melius. Machiavelli does not repeat Livy’s statement that Spurius Melius wanted to be king,60 nor does he tell us that the dictator in the case was Cincinnatus, the man celebrated in III 25 for his generosity and poverty. By Machiavelli’s report he was not a seeker of favors or reputation, w hether by public or private modes. And what if the people, blinded by a species of false good, needs the counsel of a man who serves as a kind of dictator? The republi¬ can or constitutional distinction between public and private modes, here iden¬ tified w ith the distinction between republics and tyranny, must be enforced by a man of public spirit acting in private—by a man w ho transcends the distinc¬ tion. Yet to protect this man, the constitutional distinction, however incom¬ plete, must be upheld; for the counselor must himself renounce the honors he offers to princes and citizens of reputation. Despite the hidden connection betw een public and private modes in the citizens w ho seek favors and in the man who avoids honors, they must be kept distinct in order to keep reputation and counsel distinct. A citizen can become tyrant openly only through reputation for a false good, as opposed to counsel for the common benefit. Machiavelli’s 60. Livy, IV 13. 4.

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republicanism suits him as far as it goes, since he cannot display his kingly arm. He uses that arm, however, against the species of false good prevalent in his time and partly illustrated in the man happily called Spurius Melius. One such case left unpunished is enough to ruin a republic, he says, for with that example it is with difficulty returned to “the true way,” the single true way, not public and private “ways” (III 21, and others). Machiavelli’s intention is to make this difficult but not impossible effort “w ith that example.” “That the sins of peoples arise from princes” announces a topic of politics or religion, or of both, in parallel. We find that the discussion of reputation, the goal of princes and citizens in III 28, comes to religion, in which peoples show their similarity to the prince. Princes should not complain, he begins, of any sin that the peoples whom they govern commit, for such sins arise either from their own negligence or from being stained by similar “errors.” He applies the point to peoples in our times held guilty of “robberies and of similar sins,” as those sins arose from their governors, who were “of similar nature.” Such were the lords of Romagna destroyed by Pope Alexander VI, and Machiavelli proceeds to denounce them at inordinate length and in unnecessary detail. Under these lords one sees the greatest slaughter and rapine result from every slight cause; this comes from the w ickedness of “those princes” and not from the wicked nature of men, as they say. Although “those princes” were poor, they wished to live as rich, which they did in this way among other dishonest ways.61 They would make laws to prohibit some action, anti afterward they themselves w ere the first to give cause not to obey these laws (1 45), nor did they ever punish those w ho disobeyed until they saw that very many had become liable. Then they turned to punishment, not zealous for the law but desirous of collecting the penalty. Many inconveniences came from this conduct, which we may consider a sin similar to robbery, above all that the peoples were im¬ poverished and not corrected, and that those impoverished schemed to make it up against those less powerful than themselves. From this came all the evils mentioned above, the cause of which was the “prince.” From “princes” Machiavelli arrives at the prince w ho is the cause of ills done by the princes for slight cause. It might be said that these petty lords, like all human governments, were under the pope, and that therefore their sins w ere his. Their sins amount to a way of governing men which certainly resembles that of the pope or the pope’s prince. Perhaps to suggest the government of men imitating the govern¬ ment of God, Machiavelli fails even to mention his supposed favorite,62 the famed subject of his account of this affair in chapter seven of The Prince, Cesare Borgia. Livy shows it is true that the cause is the prince, Machiavelli says, when he tells of the Roman legates w ho carried the gift of the spoils of the Veientes to Apollo, and were caught by pirates from Lipari. When the “prince” of the 61. “Dishonest w ays” are identified w ith “various modes” of rapine here. 62. Montesquieu, De I'esprit des lots XXIX 19; and others.

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pirates, Timasitheus, understood what gift this was, where it was going, and who was sending it, he, though born in Lipari, bore himself “like a Roman man” and showed the people how impious it would be to seize a “similar” gift; so with the consent of all (dello universale), he let the legates go with all their things. Machiavelli quotes the words of the “historian”: “with religion Timasitheus filled the multitude, which is alw ays similar to the ruler.”63 The pious pirate behaves like a Roman man without difficulty because the Roman man behaved like a pious pirate. The “Roman man” in question is Camillus, who made the vowr to Apollo and was therefore expelled from Rome (III 23). Though exiled by Fortune (II 29), Camillus was nonetheless adored as a prince (I 29). While in the previous example Cesare Borgia the imitator w as not mentioned, in this example the one imitated is not mentioned—as if the tool had been used for the model. Machiavelli indicates that one can obey his orders by imitating his conduct, as well as one can. He gives his orders in examples and in precepts based on examples. He does not, like the lords of Romagna, entice men into disobedience through imitation; in his piety, obedience and imitation are in harmony. Thus all men join a similar multitude,64 and no m^n is lifted above another by some aspect of nobility (III 26) or “species of false good” (III 28). The chapter concludes with a quotation from the modern poet Lorenzo con¬ firming the ancient historian and giving the reason w hy the multitude is similar. The many do w hat the lord does because all eyes are turned to the lord (see III 2). In the context of Lorenzo’s poem, the Emperor Constantine is handing over

Ill 30

his kingdom to his three sons and exhorting them to live a just life. Machiavelli does not otherwise allude to the possibility that the multitude might be made similar through justice.65 The following chapter has one of Machiavelli’s composite titles which require the reader to connect two disparate subjects. In connecting them the reader gets more information on the “multitude” that will be “similar” to Machiavelli the prince. The chapter is distinguished by the only explicit mention of the Bible in the Discourses among very many inexplicit references, and appropriately the explicit statement recommends reading the Bible “judiciously” (sensatamente). “To one citizen who w ishes to do some good work in his republic on his ow n authority, it is necessary first to extinguish envy; and how, when the enemy comes, one has to order the defense of a city.” Thus our problem is to connect the extinguishing of envy w ith the ordering of defense, two subjects connected in the text only by the example of Camillus’ protecting Rome against “all Tuscany.” The Roman Senate judged this war to be very dangerous, but since Camillus was already tribune with consular power, it—or he—thought they could do without creating a dictator, since his colleagues the other tribunes were 63. 64. 65. 1914),

Livy says “just religion,” V 28. 4. “Similar” occurs five times in this brief chapter, “prince” five times, and “people” four times. Lorenzo d£’ Medici, La rappresentazione di San Giovanni e Paulo, Opere, A. Simioni, ed. (Bari, II 100.

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willing to concede him “the height of power’’ (la sornma dello imperio). Machiavelli’s diction leaves it unclear whether Camillus was acting “on his own author¬ ity,” as required to illustrate the chapter title.66 Acting on one’s own authority may mean acting on behalf of the people as tribune, so to speak, with or without the sanction of the established authority; this is the only time that Camillus, “the most prudent of all Roman captains” (III 12), is referred to as tribune. Machiavelli quotes Livy saying that the tribunes did not believe that w hen they yielded to Camillus’ majesty they detracted from their own. Then he details Camillus’ arrangements. Camillus “commanded” that three armies be inscribed,67 and designated the head of each; and he ordered a tribune and a senator to take care of supplies and of daily administration. Camillus dealt w ith envious men by dividing his army and by delegating his authority to his poten¬ tial rivals. Machiavelli comments, following Livy, that thus w ere these tribunes in those times disposed “to command and obey” for the safety of the fatherland. So there was a detraction from their majesty. Moreover, he omits the facts according to Livy that Camillus, who headed the first army, had a colleague in that command, and that Camillus’ army w as to go against an enemy not consid¬ ered dangerous.68 Then Machiavelli comments for himself that from this text one may note w hat a “good and w ise man” may do, how much good he may cause and how useful he can be to his fatherland when w ith “his goodness and virtue” he has extinguished envy: “virtue” here has the meaning of wisdom, and w ith wisdom man can be the cause of good. We begin to see that Machiavelli is explaining how he can order his army so as to extinguish envy, for envy, he says, does not pc tin it men to have “that authority which it is necessary to have in important things.” Such envy is extinguished in two modes. The first is by “some powerful and difficult accident” in w hich everyone puts aside ambition and rushes voluntarily to obey w hoever can liberate him w ith his virtue. I his w ay of extinguishing envy, it appears, is through virtue; and it is illustrated w ith Camillus. Camillus had given so many proofs of being a very excellent man, had been dictator three times (compare 111 24), and had administered that rank always for the public utility, not his ow n. He contrived that men did not fear his greatness and did not consider it shameful to be inferior to him. Then Machiavelli refers par¬ enthetically to the words quoted above that Livy “says w isely”; not the tribunes but Livy says them wisely, because they were a lie. - “Another mode” of extinguishing envy is when “either by violence or by natural order” your rivals die—those who see you reputed more than them¬ selves, and who cannot acquiesce and be patient. When such men live in a corrupt city w here education has not produced any “goodness” in them—for the 66. In III 1 the Senate is praised for abandoning its envy of Camillus when the French took Rome. 67. Scrivere is used six times in this chapter in the sense of “enroll.” * 68. Livy, VI 6. 10-15.

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second mode concerns goodness—they will not learn by accident (that is, in the first mode); since to get their wish and satisfy their perverse spirit they would be content to see the ruin of their fatherland, death is the only remedy for their envy. If fortune smiles on the “virtuous man” so that they die “ordinarily,” he will become glorious without scandal and can show his virtue. But what of the fatherland, we may ask? Machiavelli suggests that a virtuous man must neces¬ sarily be envious of others, particularly of other virtuous men, so that he can show his virtue. He can manage this necessity by waiting for fortune to remove his rivals ordinarily, but then he must anticipate that he himself will be removed in due course, ordinarily. Machiavelli and only Machiavelli combines goodness with virtue, because he can afford to be patient and wait. He who does not have this fate (ventura) must think how to get the envious out of his w ay. “And w hoever reads the Bible judiciously will see that Moses, if he wished his laws and his orders to go forward, was forced to kill countless men who, moved by nothing other than envy, were opposed to his designs.” A judicious reading is in terms of human designs and necessities. If Moses was forced to kill countless men, all of them envious, we infer that all men were his rivals.69 At this point we would have expected a reference to Manlius Capitolinus, whose envy of Camillus was extinguished by violent means (I 8; III 8); but the reference to Moses makes an impressive, if silent, contrast between his “very cruel methods” (compare I 26) and the killing of one man by the Romans (see I 4), or betw een the massive executions commanded by God70 and the few' ordered by Machiavelli. The discussion now' sw ings to two of Machiavelli’s contemporaries in Flor¬ ence, Savonarola and Piero Soderini. Both knew the necessity of eliminating rivals, Savonarola “very well.” Savonarola could not overcome envy because he did not have the authority and because he was not well understood by his followers, w ho did. His sermons are full of accusations and invectives against the “wise of the world,” for so he called the envious and those opposed to his orders. Piero, we suppose, did not suffer from being misunderstood by his followers (see I 52); he believed he could extinguish envy with time, with goodness, with his fortune, by benefiting someone. He did not know' that time cannot wait, goodness is not enough, fortune varies, and malignity receives no gift that placates her. Or have we not seen that all these difficulties can be overcome? Machiavelli will make sure that his followers understand him. The other notable thing, the second topic of the chapter, is the ordering Camillus established, inside and outside, for the safety of Rome. Actually Machiavelli speaks only of the ordering inside Rome, but first he remarks in his best sententious manner that not w ithout cause good historians, such as ours, expound certain cases particularly and distinctly so that posterity may learn how to defend itself in similar accidents. Does the Bible teach self-defense? 69. See P. 26. 70. See P. 6

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Livy’s teaching in this example amounts to the mere statement that Camillus “inscribed” a third army for the defense of Rome.71 On this Machiavelli ex¬ pounds particularly and distinctly that no defense is more dangerous and useless than one made “tumultously and without order.” So it was not superfluous for Camillus to have the people “inscribed” even though they were ordinarily armed and bellicose. Camillus, Machiavelli says, never permitted a multitude to take arms unless “with a certain order and a certain mode.” One who is in charge of guarding a city should avoid like a shoal arming men tumultuously, but should first have inscribed and chosen those he w ants to arm; and the others not inscribed should be commanded to go guard their houses. Those w ho keep this order in a city under attack can easily defend themselves, but whoever fails to imitate Camillus will not defend himself. The Bible arms its readers indis¬ criminately w ith tumultuous consequences because it does not distinguish those who read judiciously from those who do not and so does not extinguish the envy of the “w ise of the world”. Machiavelli enlists them as philosophers defending the city inside and as political men fighting outside. In the next chapter Machiavelli returns to the topic of varying fortune that he had treated twenty-two chapters earlier in 111 9, but now in regard to Camillus rather than Fabius and with the Stoic lesson of keeping the same spirit despite changing fortune rather than changing w ith the times to have good fortune always. Having explained his ow n flexibility, Machiavelli must show the dura¬ bility he intends for his “army” or “multitude” or (as here) “republic.” “Strong republics and excellent men keep the same spirit [animo\ and the same dignity in every fortune.” This Stoic lesson is of course presented w ithout any mention of moderation in the context of Machiavelli’s un-Stoic promotion of acquisition. Since acquisition is primary, he is also able to assert, contrary to the Stoics and to classical political philosophy as a w hole, that strong republics can achieve the same disposition as excellent men. In the opening sentence Machiavelli reveals the method of “our historian.” Among the other magnificent things that our historian makes Camillus say and do, so as to show how an excellent man should be made, he puts these words in his mouth: “Dictatorship did not raise my spirits, nor did exile depress them.” If Livy makes Camillus say and do things, he would seem to step from, or rise above, the rank of historian to that of w riter of fiction. Or is Machiavelli making Livy say and do things? He does not attribute this intention to Livy anyw here else; and he gives two more quotations in the chapter without reference to Livy. In the preceding chapter he has recommended reading the Bible judiciously; could it be that he is describing here the method by which the Bible was w ritten?72 He also gives Camillus a status he has not had before. As an “excel¬ lent man,” Camillus would not gain spirit in the dictatorship or lose it in exile, that is, in politics or out; but as captain, he would have to lose spirit in exile 71. Livy, VI 6. 14. 72. S., pp. 148-149, 290.

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where he could not show his virtue (III 30). An excellent man can show his virtue in exile, outside politics, w hile remaining in governo. Machiavelli continues by distinguishing “great men,” who are always the same in every fortune and make it known by their firm spirit and manner of living that fortune has no power over them, from “weak men,” who become inebriated in good fortune and attribute everything good to that virtue they have never known. He dwells on the vileness of weak men, and then says that this virtue and this vice, w hich “I say is to be found in one man alone,” is also found in a republic. It is thus unclear w hether either the virtue or the vice appears in one man and in one republic, or possibly both virtue and vice in combination. But the doubt is resolved in favor of the combination by the examples of the Roman and Venetian republics which follow. As to the Romans, no bad fate ever made them abject, nor did good fortune make them insolent. In w itness of the first, Machiavelli points to the “very grave” defeat at Cannae (see II 12), and refers again somew hat contradictorily to the remark of Hanno (II 30) dismissing it as “of little account.” He adds the detail unknown to Hanno that the Romans, thinking only of war and lacking men, armed their old men and slaves. Then to illustrate the Romans’ lack of insolence, he cites their victory over Antiochus, after which they offered the same terms as before. Machiavelli quotes an invented boast by Scipio to Antiochus’ ambassadors, saying that the Romans never lost spirit in defeat nor became insolent in victory.73 But he does not mention Antiochus’ dismissal of the peace terms offered before battle on the ground that they w ere as bad as if he had already been defeated.74 The condition of Scipio’s equanimity was the expectation that he was going to win anyway.75 We note that by this quotation Camillus’ equanimity in exile—that of one man alone—is equated with that of the Romans in defeat so that the joys of contemplative retirement are put out of court. To the exact contrary w as the behavior of the Venetians, Machiavelli says. In good fortune they w ere so insolent that they called the “king of France” son of St. Mark, failed to respect the Church, extended their ambition beyond Italy, and conceived in their minds that they had to make a “monarchy similar to the Roman.” But then after their “half defeat” at Vaila at the hands of the king of France, they not only lost their “state” by rebellion but also gave a good part of it to the pope and the king of Spain through vileness and abjectness of spirit. They even sent ambassadors to the king of Spain offering to become tributaries, and w rote a vile, submissive letter to the pope to move him to compassion. We might object that if the “monarchy similar to the Roman” the Venetians desired is the Holy Roman Empire or its spiritual equivalent, such submissions by these governments

were

not

unknown,

infrequent,

or

ineffective.

73. W., II 195. Livy, XXXVII 45. 11-12; but NM does not refer to the mens. 74. Livy, XXXVII 36. 9. 75. Cf. Livy XXXVII 45. 13 with XXXVII 36. 5.

Besides,

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Machiavelli might find the Venetian arrogance appealing, and be willing to accept modern abjectness as the necessary means to that end. For there is strength beyond strength in him who knows how to use old men and slaves, and whose equanimity consists in using, not merely enduring, bad fortune. It is true that the Venetians suffered only half a defeat, and w ith “any sort of virtue” could have persevered. Suffering only half a defeat is the condition of equanimity in bad fortune, just as expecting to w in is the cure for insolence arising from unexpected victory. The vileness of the Venetians’ spirit (animo), “caused by the quality of their orders [which were] not good in things of w ar,” made them lose state and spirit {animo) at one stroke.76 Vileness of spirit causes loss of spirit, a this-worldly punishment that makes us think of the otherworldly equivalent for the soul; for equanimity in every fortune has a modern or Christian meaning. In the remain¬ der of the chapter Machiavelli considers how this meaning affects “spirit” in the sense of defensiveness {animo) and in its special Christian meaning {spirito). W e see that “spirit” is caused by “orders,” because becoming insolent in good fortune and abject in bad arises from your mode of proceeding and from the education by w hich you have been nourished. A weak and empty education renders you similar to itself, but another education making you “a better know er of the world” makes you rejoice less at good and be less aggrieved at evil. And, Machiavelli adds, what is said of one alone may be said of many living in the same republic who are brought to the perfection of that mode of living. Machiavelli is ready to instruct the “wise of our city” (III 27) in knowledge of the world, but also the “wise of the world” (III 30) in the education of a republic. Accordingly Machiavelli repeats that the foundation of all states is good militia, as one sees this necessity appear “at every point in reading this history” (which history?). Militia, he says, cannot be good unless it is trained and cannot be trained {esercitata) unless it is composed of your subjects because training must be done in peacetime when it is too expensive except with subjects. When Camillus went against the Tuscans, his soldiers were frightened at the greatness of the enemy’s army; so Camillus came out to show himself and “without ordering the camp otherwise” said to them: “What anyone has learned or has been in the habit of doing, let him do.” These are hardly stirring words, but then Machiavelli w ill not have the opportunity of addressing his troops (see III 6) as a body. In the alternative of learning or follow ing one’s custom (Livy says and rather than or)77 we recognize the inscribed and the irregular soldiers of III 30. Soldiers can be animated against the enemy if they have been ordered and trained both in peace and in war, for a captain cannot trust soldiers who have not learned to do anything. Even if a new Hannibal commanded them, he would be crushed underneath. For a captain cannot be everywhere during the 76. S., p. 333n59. 77. Livy, VI 7. 6.

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battle, and if he has not first ordered his army in every part so as to have men having his spirit (lo spiritosuo), his orders, and his mode of proceeding, he will be ruined of necessity. Machiavelli concludes that if a city is armed and ordered like Rome, so that its citizens every day, in private and public, make trial of their virtue and of the power of fortune, they will always have the same spirit in every kind of weather (tempo) and will maintain their dignity. If they are dis¬ armed, and rely solely on fortune rather than their own virtue, they will vary as fortune varies, and always give the example given by the Venetians. In all this Machiavelli’s necessity is apparent: the new Hannibal, the enemy of Rome, must borrow from Rome to infuse his spirit in his army-republic “in every fortune.” In III 27-31 Machiavelli has had to take up again the subject of Book I, “orders,” to show how he can govern them. We can now discern that the three books of the Discourses correspond to the three parts of Christianity in the order indicated in I 52 and II 16—18^_ Someone of spirit and dignity might consider this a vile submission on Machiavelli’s part.

Ill 32

Machiavelli briefly considers next “what modes some have used to disturb a peace.” But he seems to tell us of only one mode, illustrated in two examples of rebellion. The theme is the familiar conflict between public and private interest, but in this treatment Machiavelli gives forthright encouragement to a private interest in disturbing a peace by reprehensible means. Two colonies rebelled against the Roman people in the hope of being de¬ fended by the Latins; and after the Latins were defeated, and that hope had failed, many citizens counseled sending ambassadors to the Romans. This pol¬ icy was upset (turbato) by those who had been “authors of the rebellion,” w ho feared lest all the punishment fall on their heads. To dispose of all discussion of peace, they incited the multitude to arm and overrun the Roman borders. And truly, Machiavelli says solemnly, w hen anyone w ishes that either a people or a prince lose all spirit for an accord, there is no truer or more secure remedy than to perpetuate “some grave villainy” against him w ith whom you do not w ish an accord to be made, for the parties w ill be kept apart by fear of punishment. At the same time, we may note that fear brings together the private interest of the few and the public interest of the many. Livy does not mention the hope of outside help in his account of the incident,78 but Machiavelli adds it so that he can indicate how' this hope, at first opposed to the fear of the few, can be transformed into a fear common to all. Moving without transition to the second example, he tells how some Carth¬ aginian soldiers, actually mercenaries, rebelled against the Carthaginians after the first Punic war. The Carthaginians sent “their citizen Hasdrubal” to them as ambassador, since he had formerly been their captain. But the two chiefs of the rebels, washing to bind the soldiers not to hope ever again to have peace w ith the Carthaginians, persuaded them to kill him with all the Carthaginian citizens whom they held prisoner. This they did with a thousand torments, and prom78. Livy, VI 21.

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iscd to do the same for all Carthaginians whom they seized. “This decision and execution made that army cruel and obstinate against the Carthaginians,” Machiavelli concludes. We see that an army can be made obstinate or “obligated to war” not only without religion (1 15; II 16) but also by means of a grave villainy.79 The Carthaginian mercenaries are not so called, as in chapter 12 of The Prince. T his makes us think of those modern mercenaries not so called, and never “satisfied w ith their stipend,” who have a private interest in the continuance of spiritual warfare. Their desire is shared by Machiavelli and other “authors” of rebellion; so those who want the war against Rome to continue (the first exam¬ ple) can watch it continue between the mercenaries and their employers (the second example). Machiavelli also substitutes Hasdrubal for Gesco in the sec¬ ond example, suggesting that w e make our own substitution of a captain sen¬ tenced to a thousand torments and killed by his former soldiers. In III 17 Hasdrubal w as the one w ho fooled Claudius Nero w ith offers of peace so that Claudius adopted the dangerous plan of dividing his army to attack I lasdrubal before he could unite with Hannibal. Claudius’ pursuit of private glory or revenge caused Machiavelli to remark that similar disorders arise in a thousand unexpected ways80 to prevent a perpetual republic. Perhaps the thousand unex¬ pected ways can be anticipated after all.

Ill 33

Having shown how

to disturb a peace by making an army obstinate,

Machiavelli now considers how to w in a battle by making the army confident “both w ithin itself and w ith the captain.” A confident army believes that it must win “in every mode” (in ogni rnodo, see III 10), anti to be confident it must be armed and ordered well and its soldiers must know one another. Nor can “this confidence or this order” arise except in soldiers who were born and have lived together, as it appears, under a captain. They must have confidence in the captain’s prudence, as they will w hen they see him prepared (ordinato), solicit¬ ous and spirited, and keeping up the majesty of his rank; for the soldiers appar¬ ently cannot judge his prudence otherwise. The captain will uphold his majesty if he punishes errors, does not tire his soldiers in vain, keeps his promises to them (the central requirement), shows easily the way to w in, and hides or makes light of far-off dangers. This captain is described as a god, and Machiavelli does indeed say that the Romans gave their armies this confidence “by w ay ol reli¬ gion.” It seems that religion is needed to inspire hope in the soldiers, as distinct from obstinacy which does not require religion, because the soldiers must have confidence that their captain can among other things keep his promises to them. To have confidence “within itself " the army must have confidence in the captain. The Romans used auguries and auspices by w ay of religion,81 and a good and 79. S., p. 150. 80. Cf. D. II 10, w here Hasdrubal w as engaged in battle by Claudius Nero to avoid a “thousand disadvantages.” 81. Compare the list of occasions for auspices in I 14 and III 33; “enrolling an army replaces “beginning enterprises” in I 14.

in III 33

406 III 33

BOOK III

wise captain would never have attempted any action unless his soldiers first understood that the gods were on their side. When any consul “or other captain of theirs” fought against the auspices, they punished him as they punished Claudius Pulcher. He w as the consul in I 14 (there called Appius Pulcher) w ho ordered the unhungry chickens to be thrown into the sea. The chapter I 14 on the use of religion to make an army confident was connected to I 15 on the use of religion to make it obstinate; in III 32-33 the connection persists but the order of subjects is reversed.82 While in the earlier discussion Machiavelli was compar¬ ing ancient religion with modern (see I 12), and thus the generation of confi¬ dence w ith obstinacy, he now7 must explain how7 a captain can create both with regard to the ascendancy of fear and obstinacy over confidence. To suggest the means of creation, he not only quotes Livy but also mentions again that Livy has put words in the mouth of his character. The relation of an author, even an historian, to his character is like the relation of the captain to his army—or is it also like the relation of an army to its captain if the captain is a god? With Livy’s w ords Appius Claudius complains to the people of the insolence of the tribunes, w ho had been mocking the “little things” from which the auspices were read. By not despising these little things, he says,83 our fathers (maiores) made this republic great. Livy actually said “your fathers,” but Machiavelli improves upon a public defense of religion that calls attention to what plebeians as distinct from patricians believe.84 In the mouth of Livy’s Appius the importance of little things was obviously connected to the exclusive right of patricians to interpret them, w hich had the effect of forcing plebeian leaders to become mockers of religion. Perhaps the contrary effect results from the present plebeian religion; but Machiavelli is concerned to keep his soldiers “united and confident.” Then he says that little things must be accompanied by virtue, as w e see from the example of the Prenestians w ho, when taking the field against the Romans, camped their army in the place where the Romans had been defeated by the French. They thought to put faith in their soldiers and to frighten the Romans “by the fortune of the place.” Were they so foolish? Machiavelli himself said in II 29 that Fortune w as responsible for that Roman defeat. Moreover, the fortune of a place resembles the virtue of order in an army, as well as in a book. Machiavelli understands religion as Providence in this world interpreted through signs: to camp w here the Romans were defeated by the French might be taken as Machiavelli’s Providence, by w hich his army can transform luck into confidence. Although this policy seems “probable” for the reasons given above, nonethe¬ less the outcome shows that “true virtue” does not fear every least accident. This Livy says very well in the words he puts in the mouth of the dictator (Cincinnatus) speaking to his master of horse. These words disparage trust in 82. Cf. the end of I 15. 83. S., pp. 150-152, 154; 323n 151. 84. Livy, VI 41. 5-8.

VIRTUE AND THE MULTITUDE

40 7

fortune (Livy says “in the fortune of the place”) and order “you” to trust in arms and spirit, and to attack the center.85 This last is good advice for those of Machiavelli’s readers who may wish to trust in the fortune of the place: for example, the center of this quotation is missing, in which Cincinnatus says that the gods have given the Prenestians no surety for greater confidence than the Romans.86 Machiavelli has moved from defense to disparagement of little things, and from religion to “a true virtue, a good order, and a security acquired from many victories”; and he has done so following Livy, who put certain words in the mouth of a consul speaking to the people and contrary words in the mouth of a dictator speaking to his subordinate, belittling the little things. The worth of true virtue is further illustrated in the incident of the two Manlii, consuls in the field against the Volscii. They audaciously divided their army so as to send a part in search of booty, and were attacked. From this danger they w ere “liberated” not by their prudence but by “the virtue of their ow n soldiers.” Whence Livy “says”: “The virtue of the soldiers w as saved even without a stable corrector [rector]." Actually Livy said these were “military tribunes with consular power,” not “consuls”; so by Machiavelli’s substitution we again (III 25) have incompetent consuls in early Rome (compare I 20).87 But because of the virtue of their ow n soldiers their incompetence did not prove disastrous. “True virtue” does not merely accompany religion, nor does it give confidence only to captains w ho lack religion, but it even replaces religion in the soldiers w hen prudence is lacking in their captains. Such prudence will neces¬ sarily be lacking in Machiavelli’s captains, w ho w ill divide into those seeking political honors and those not; so true virtue in the soldiers, not only in “great and rare men” (III 16), is required for his enterprise. “I do not wish to omit” a means used by Fabius to make his army confident entering Tuscany for the first time, since he judged such confidence more necessary for an army led to a new country against new enemies. Speaking to his soldiers before the battle, and giving them many reasons w hy they could hope for victory, he said he could also tell them certain good things from w hich they would see that victory was certain, if it were not dangerous to make them manifest. This mode, as it was w isely used, deserves to be imitated, Machiavelli concludes. In Livy’s account Fabius was said to be hinting that the enemy w ere about to be betrayed, which was not so;88 but in Machiavelli’s version the “certain good things” w hich admittedly must be concealed for a concealed good reason resemble the hidden works and intentions of Providence. In the interpre¬ tation of Providence the bad things revealed are said to be good things con¬ cealed, perhaps by the captain w ho hides or makes light of far-off dangers. This episode follows the amazing success of Fabius in making his w ay through the 85. Livy, VI 29. 1. 86. The omission is omitted by Walker, II 198. 87. S., p. 323n 151. 88. Livy, IX 37. 7.

408 III 33

III 34

BOOK III

uncharted Ciminian forest (II 33); so his promise of certain good things is supported by his performance. He is the one to be imitated, not Appius Claudius or Cincinnatus, because he is the one leading an army in a new country against new enemies. There is nothing new about defending the neces¬ sity of religion or disparaging superstition, but to make a new religion or new kind of religion in the mouths of those whom you say you are imitating is notable. Fabius’ way deserves (merita) to be imitated, but to be imitated it must be made acceptable to the people even though it requires, or consists in, concealing “certain good things” from them. In the last chapter of the section, Machiavelli takes up this difficulty by comparing an “extraordinary and notable action” of Manlius Torquatus that gained him the favor of the people with a successful speech of advice to the people by Fabius. The title says: “What fame or voice or opinion makes the people begin to favor a citizen; and whether it distributes offices with greater prudence than a prince.” The first point is how to win an election and the second is w hether, given the necessity of electioneering, merit is neglected to the detriment of the common good. Machiavelli w ill suggest how merit can be fruitful despite this necessity. “Another time,” he begins, we have spoken of how Titus Manlius, later called Torquatus, saved his father from an accusation brought against him by a tri¬ bune (Ill; see III 22). Although the mode of saving him was “somewhat violent and extraordinary” (a menace to kill the tribune unless he swore to abandon his accusation), still such filial piety toward his father w as so pleasing to the “uni¬ versality” that Titus was elected tribune “in second place” (of six). Manlius’ filial piety, we see, was as pleasing to the people as Camillus’ obtrusive pride was odious (III 23), but only for second place. Filial piety presupposes that first place goes to father. Yet because of this (qualified) success, Machiavelli believes it well to consider the mode used by the people in “judging” men in their assignment of offices and whether it w as true as concluded above that the people is a “better distributor” than a prince. He w ill reconsider his double conclusion in I 58, that the “multitude” is better than a prince in judging things in a debate and in electing magistrates. In this chapter the two items are brought together because he wishes to offer an alternative to his earlier supposition that the people has an “occult virtue.” “I say,” he says, that in its distribution the people goes directly to w hat is said of one by “public voice or fame,” w hen nothing is know n of his w orks, either by presumption or opinion of him. These two things (which two?) are caused, Machiavelli continues in a perplexed sentence, either by the belief that sons should be similar to their fathers who have been great men and valuable in the city or by the modes of the one spoken of. The best modes (for those who are not sons of such fathers) are to keep the company of grave men, to have good manners, and to be reputed wise by everyone, for the greatest indication of a man is the company he keeps, and one who keeps honorable company deser-

VIRTUE AND THE MULTITUDE

34

409

vedly (meritamente) acquires a good name because he must have some “similar¬ ity” with that company. Or truly one acquires public fame through some ex¬ traordinary and notable action, even though private, which has turned out honorably for you. Of these three things that give a good reputation to one at the beginning, the last is the greatest. The first, from relatives and fathers, is deceitful, and is soon consumed if one’s ow n virtue does not sustain it; the second is better than the first but much inferior to the third because as long as no indication (segno) is seen arising from you, your reputation is founded in opinion and so very easily annulled. But the third is based on fact and on your work and gives you such a name at the beginning that you must later do many contrary things to cancel it. Men born in a republic must take this direction, as did many in Rome in their youth; they promulgated a law for the common utility, or accused some potent citizen as a transgressor of the laws, or did similar notable and new things w hich would be talked of. In this long passage we find no explanation of filial piety, though a striking example of it induced the reconsideration of I 58. The first two opinions w ith which to begin a reputation rest on a presumed similarity, but the third way is to do something notable and new. Whereas reputation by similarity is derived from someone else, w hat is new is seen as arising from you. When sons are well reputed because they are supposed similar to exemplary fathers, they depend on their fathers and must obey them. So filial piety means obeying “in second place” the father whom by similarity the son is thought capable of imitating. Generalizing from fathers to the rulers of a society, from private to public, w e see that gaining reputation or w inning election by being held similar to grave men w ith go(xl customs who are reputed wise by everyone results in obedience to these men; yet the cause of reputation is being held similar, not inferior. Filial piety is pleasing to the people, but the people do not take account of conflicts of interest betw een similars and do not see the difficulty of governing a similar multitude (III 29). To gain the people’s favor it is necessary to be held similar to others—to fathers and rulers; and yet to bring them good it is necessary to make way for merit against the established interests of fathers and rulers. Machiavelli’s solution for the dilemma, so far as one is possible, is to take advantage of the people’s appetite for “rash enterprises” (I 53), and to use their taste for the sensational to make an opening for something notable and new, that is, for something arising from you or your own virtue. Virtue w ears a face of the spectacular in men who “show their virtue” (III 33) in politics. Manlius Torquatus’ filial piety was spectacular. With a harsh action (III 22) he imitated his father’s harshness, yet he quickly became tribune despite that harshness and became more reputed than his father precisely by the “somewhat violent and extraordinary” manner of defending him. He w as elected w ithout having done anything to merit favor, Livy says;89 so we must look at what came alter the 89. Livy, VII 5. 9.

410 III 34

BOOK III

“beginning” to see whether the presumption earned by his notable deed gained opportunity for virtue and common utility. Extraordinary deeds must necessar¬ ily be private in the sense that they gain you favor when you are young and before the public benefit becomes apparent. But can such private ways to reputation be welcomed as presumptively leading to public benefit and thus superior to the established public ways (compare III 28)? Does the people therefore distribute offices well despite or because of its taste for the spectacular and against the necessity of giving reputation by similarity? Machiavelli says that similar notable and new things are necessary to maintain and increase reputation, as well as to begin it. Reputation must be renewed as Manlius did it through his whole life; for having defended his father, after a few years he fought with “that Frenchman” and took from him that collar of gold which gave him the name of Torquatus. Nor was this enough, for later, when in middle age, he killed his son for having fought without permission even though he overcame the enemy. Though Manlius was distinguished for triumphs and victories as much as any other Roman, these three actions gave him more fame and made him more celebrated through all centuries because in the victories he had very many “similars” but in these actions few or none. It is as if Manlius lived the life of a saint, and w ith the same confusion of testimony, for Livy says that he picked up a bloody chain from that Gaul and w as given a golden crow n by the dictator.90 Then Machiavelli surprisingly gives three actions in the life of Scipio that brought him more glory than all his triumphs; w e are to compare them w ith those of Manlius. He himself does not compare them, although he had com¬ pared Scipio’s humanity with Hannibal’s cruelty in III 21 and Manlius’ harsh¬ ness with Valerius’ kindness in III 22. But that he immediately supplies three comparable actions of Scipio’s—Scipio, too, defended his father;91 he spiritedly made many young Romans swear not to abandon Italy after the defeat at Cannae (see Ill, where the oath is not to abandon the fatherland); and he returned a daughter to her father, a wife to her husband in Spain (III 20)— makes us doubt that Manlius’ actions were so singular. All six actions have the ambiguity that we saw in filial piety between one’s own reputation and the common good: to be similar is to make a claim of superiority over one’s similars. The implication is that devotion to the common good is like devotion to one’s father—up to a point. Such devotion falls short at disrespect for either dif¬ ference or similarity. Manlian severity is so intolerant of the difference that one may be led to “believe” that it is altogether in favor of the public (III 22), but Manlius’ concern for his name leads one to doubt that the terrible punishment of his son had no tincture of private ambition. Machiavelli proceeds to liken the w ay of citizens seeking honors in their republic to that of princes maintaining their reputations in principalities with rare examples in deed or speech “con90. Livy, VII 10. 14. 91. Livy, XXI 46. 10. NM omits Livy’s alternative story that a slave saved Scipio’s father.

411

M ACHI A VELLl’s STRATEGY

34

formable to the common good” which show the “lord” to be magnanimous, liberal, or just so as to make him a kind of proverb among his subjects. We have already seen (III 21) that Scipionic humanity, for its part, is so tolerant of diversity as to risk the dangers of rebellion in the army and partisanship within the republic. As in the Tacitean subsection Machiavelli has strengthened hu¬ manity with necessary doses of fear and severity, so now he w ill mollify repub¬ lican severity and correct republican ingratitude by showing how a republic can recognize merit, that is, differences of merit. Machiavelli returns to the beginning of this discourse and says that the people, in giving rank to one of its citizens, does not do ill to base itself on the three above-mentioned causes; and later, when many examples of good conduct are know n, it is hardly ever deceived. Or at least, the people alw ays will make fewer errors than princes. Machiavelli acknow ledges that peoples could be de¬ ceived about the fame, opinion, and works of a man, as would not happen to a prince warned by w hoever advises him; yet peoples also do not lack these counsels. Good orderers of republics have ordered that since “inadequate men” are dangerous in the supreme ranks of a city, and the popular course may be inclined to “create someone who would l>e inadequate,” every citizen should l>e permitted, and the glory be his, to publish the defects of that one, so that the people can judge better. Machiavelli now makes the comparison he had avoided in I 58 between a prince and a people w hen both are w ell advised. 11 is advice to the people combines the law -making and accusation that he recommended in the third mode of gaining reputation. 1 le ends the chapter with the example of Fabius advising the people not to elect a certain candidate to the consulate whom Livy but not Machiavelli tells us was a relative of Fabius;92 but he w as inadequate and another was elected w ho “merited” the office more. Machiavelli also does not tell us that this last was Fabius. 1 le concludes that when peoples are advised as princes, with “countersigns” (contrassegni) no doubt supplied by their advisers, they err less than princes; and he repeats that a citizen seeking popular favor should gain it with some notable deed, as did Manlius. The advisor as such does not seek popular favor; he hides among grave men (that is, philosophers) and has none of the self-interest of a father’s son. I lis devotion to the common good is w ithout reservation, and in his humanity he smiles upon merit in others w ith whom he has no conflict of interest. Thus he combines in himself the two elements of the common good—similarity and difference. For this, he himself will have the highest glory.

3.

Machiavellis Strategy

(III 35-49)

The last section of Book III, like the last sections of Books I and II, are on Machiavelli’s role in his own enterprise. In I 60 we have seen his reliance on 92. Livy, XXIV 8. 11.

412

BOOK III

youth supported by the plebs and elected because of “some very notable action” rather than the possession of an old man’s prudence. In II 33 Machiavelli recommended that full powers be given to captains instead of incompetent advice from those not on the spot. Now in III 35 —49 it is necessary to unite the ardor of youth with the prudence of age, and to give competent advice to captains. It has become clear through Book III that the captain must be founder—so far must his full powers extend—and that the founder must be captain to cause his orders to be adopted. Yet to secure these orders after his death, the captain must commission others to maintain them. He cannot be his own captain or prince standing over his work for all to see because he must allow glory to others by seeming to give them full powers. He must be the adviser who is actually, but not visibly, in charge: this is the thesis of III 35. Since Machiavelli cannot accomplish his desire in his own lifetime, he must reverse the argument of II 33 and retain as adviser most of the powers apparently granted to captains. Like Fabius in II 33, he seizes power with and because of his virtue, regardless of legitimate authorization, and he does a notable deed that is prudent not w ith prudenza di vecchio but because it has never been done before and is believed to be impossible. We discover in III 39 that the basis of such prudence is science, for “science” and “knowledge” are discussed there as nowhere else in the Discourses or The Prince. With science, an unknown territory such as the Ciminian forest can be easily comprehended as the knower of one “site” extends his knowledge to another similar site by the use of images. Such images, for example, hunting as the image of w ar, render invisible similarities visible, and Machiavelli, as we have seen, makes abundant use of them (though he does not use that particular one) to instruct his readers. In this section he speaks more clearly and offers fuller hints of his method of writing than anyw here else; he shows his readers howr the science in his book is the ground and the origin of prudence. Those who cannot attain the science and cannot read the book as it should be read are either potential allies or enemies. Potential allies are represented in this section as the “French,” who stand for the anticlerical party, the Ghibellines of the world, and also for the youth who have much to gain from Machiavelli’s advice. Some of the “French” in their imprudence have served as philosophical allies of Machiavelli’s enemy (see especially II 24 and The Prince, chap. 3). Being men of “little faith” the French can be converted to the new' modes and orders, some of which they follow by instinct; but because they can be converted and because their instinctive prudence, such as it is, is not rooted in science, or is developed in rootless philosophy, they are unreliable. They must be “ordered” to sustain their ardor w ith regular institutions and they must be inspirited before the invisible terrors at w hich they tremble and panie. By contrast, Machiavelli’s enemies, the “Samnites,” are obstinate.1 They are obstinate out of blind preju1. D. I 15; Livy, VII 33. 16; IX 13. 7; X 28. 3.

M ACHI A VELLl’s STRATEGY

413

dice, but they can be opposed by a greater obstinacy based on “firm science” (III 39) and expressed in the shameless promotion of glory (III 40) and defense of the

III 35

fatherland (III 41) against their faith. Machiavelli’s presentation of these points follows for the most part the order of available examples in Livy, but we can arrange them properly w ith the aid of his images.2 The theme of the last section is stated in the title of its first chapter: What dangers are accepted in making oneself head in advising a thing; and the more extraordinary it is, the greater the dangers run. How dangerous it is to make oneself head of a “new thing that pertains to many,” how difficult “to treat it and to consummate it and, having consummated it, to maintain it,” would be too long and too exalted a matter to discuss here; so reserving that for a more convenient place, Machiavelli w ill speak of the dangers citizens or those advising a prince run in making themselves head of a grave and important decision, so that all the advice will be imputed to “him.” Apparently he never found the more convenient place, but in HI 21 he did say that men desire new things and that their desire causes them to open the doors to everyone who makes himself head of an innovation. Then perhaps the dangers are more in advising, or making oneself the head in advising such that advice w ill be imputed to you, than in public leadership of an innovation; for to lead an innovation publicly presupposes that the established authority is not hostile to it, hence that the innovation is not fundamental. As a mere adviser, Machiavelli is not prevented from introducing new modes and orders, but on the contrary is enabled to introduce them in the only way that they can be consummated and maintained: under someone else’s name. Since men judge things by their outcome, he says, all the evil that results is imputed to the “author” of the advice, and the harm far outw eighs the rew ard of advice that results in good. Three examples of unsuc¬ cessful advice follow in w hich Machiavelli show s how to avoid being charged as the “author” of unfortunate advice. When the present sultan, the so-called Grand l urk, was preparing a cam¬ paign against Syria and Egypt, one of his Bashaw s whom he kept at the border of Persia advised him to go against the Sophy (of Persia). 1 le did so with a very big army and arriving in a very large country w ith many deserts and few rivers, and meeting those difficulties w hich had already ruined many Roman armies, he was so afflicted by them that he lost a great part of his men by hunger and plague even though he w as superior in the w ar. The Grand l urk w as so irate at the author of the advice that he killed him. The misadventure of this Eastern potentate reminds us of Moses rather than many Roman armies, although Moses w as a “mere executor of things ordered by God” {The Prince, chap. 6; see III 30). How an adviser might avoid being killed in this situation is suggested in the central example, taken from Machiavelli’s reading, of republican advisers whose punishment for unfortunate advice w as exile. 2. S., pp. 28-29, 105-106, 316n47-48, 323nl92.

414 III 35

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Certain Roman citizens “put themselves in charge of setting up the plebeian consul [literally: that he make himself] in Rome.” Since it happened that the first such consul to go forth in battle was defeated, those advisers would have suffered some harm if the party in whose behalf the decision was made had not been so “rash” (gagliarda; compare I 53). We can read in Livy that the principal adviser was Camillus, who had already suffered exile and who died in the following year.3 He was saved by the strength of the plebs, which includes the interest of those, especially the young, who are elected by the plebs (I 60). Machiavelli now expatiates on the troubles of advising. Those advising a republic and those advising a prince are in these straits: if they do not advise what to them seems useful to either the city or the prince “without respect,” they fail in their duty; if they do, they put their lives and condition (stato) at risk since all men are blind in this and judge advice by its outcome. This implies that the adviser’s duty is either to the advised, whether prince or republic, or “without respect” to a “common benefit” (I pr.) that includes both. Machiavelli says he does not see any other way to avoid this infamy (the failure of duty) or this risk than “to take things moderately, and not seize upon any one of them as his own undertaking, and to give his opinion without passion, and without passion to defend it with modesty so that if the city or prince follows it, it does so voluntarily, and does not appear to enter upon it drawn by your importunity.” We have seen the procedure of indirectness rec¬ ommended throughout the Discourses, but this is the only time that Machiavelli advises moderation (compare “temporizing” in I 33 and IIIll). Moderation means staying out of sight; it does not mean taking moderate actions. In the combination of the first two examples, Machiavelli has offered his immoderate advice without respect but also without passion, keeping out of sight. When you do thus, he continues, it is not reasonable that the prince or people you have advised wish you ill, since they did not follow you against the will of many. For the danger arises whenever many have “contradicted” you, since after an unhappy result they unite to bring about your ruin. Machiavelli here reminds us of the weight of traditional authority among authors. If, he says, one loses the glory acquired by “being alone” (I 9) against many in advising a thing when it has a good outcome, still there are two goods. The first is the lack of danger; the second is that if you advise modestly and your advice is not taken, and by someone else’s advice some calamity ensues, the glory redounding to you is very great. And though you cannot delight in glory acquired from the ills of your city or your prince, nonetheless it is of “some account.” It will be of some account for the next time, that is, if the ambition of your design is grander than the fate of any particular city or prince. Only he w ho can afford the ruin of his prince or his fatherland can afford the glory of “being alone” w ith good advice (or “rare saying,” III 34) that went unheeded. 3. Livy, VI 42. 10-11.

MACHI A VELLl’s STRATEGY

III 35

III 36

415

“Other advice I do not believe can be given to men in this situation” (so Machiavelli expressly gives advice); for advising them to be silent is useless to their republic or prince and does not avoid the danger, since in a short time they would become suspect (III 2). Machiavelli concludes the chapter w ith his third example, an invented story about Perseus, king of the Macedonians.4 After Perseus’ defeat by Paulus Aemilius, and as he was fleeing w ith a few friends, one of them began to recount Perseus’ many mistakes that had been the cause of his ruin, at which Perseus turned on him and said: “Traitor! So you have put off telling me until now, when I have no further remedy.” Upon these words Perseus with his own hands strangled him. Machiavelli gives us the moral: Thus that one bore the punishment for having been silent when he should have spoken and of having spoken when he should have been silent; he did not escape the danger for not having given the advice. Of course Perseus’ friend could have been silent w ith advice if he had been silent with reproach, but in that case he would have failed in his duty unless he was silent because he had no remedy. In the classical political philosopher, reticence w ith political advice signifies that the ills of human life have no final remedy in politics; w ith Machiavelli, such reticence is the moderation or modesty that leads to very great glory.5 It is characteristic of his modest advising that he regularly omits w hat he has led his reader to expect anti adds digressions that the reader does not expect; that is, he is silent w hen he should speak and speaks when he should be silent.6 Machiavelli next discourses on how a good militia should be made, in the form of an inquiry into the “causes why the French have been and are yet judged in battle as more than men at the beginning and later as less than women.” He says that the ferocity of that Frenchman who challenged any Roman in single combat and fought Titus Manlius reminds him that Livy had said this about the French several times. Actually Livy used these words once, reporting an observation by Fabius; but Machiavelli, distinguishing himself from Livy, applies the saying to the discouragement of an entire army after the defeat of its best individual.7 That army begins with an excess of manliness, more than human beings can sustain, and ends w ith a defect of it. Many believe that the French are so made by nature, and Machiavelli believes this is true; but this nature of theirs, w hich makes them ferocious at the beginning, can be ordered w ith art to keep them ferocious until the end. We suppose that the “French” whom Machiavelli now advises are the youths to w hose ardent nature he appeals. Machiavelli says there are armies of three “reasons.” One is w here there is ardor (furore) and order, because from order arise ardor and virtue. In all the 4. See Plutarch, Aemilius Paulus 44. 5. “The writers” avenge the death of Perseus’ adviser; see D., Dedicatory Letter. “Advise” appears nineteen times in 111 35. 6. See S., p. 45, on exclusions and digressions. 7. Livy, VII 9. 1; X 28. 4. S., p. 153.

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histories one sees that the Roman army had a good order that had established military discipline effective for a long time. In a well-ordered army no one should do any unregulated work, and in the Roman army, which all other armies should take for an example because it conquered the world, no one ate, slept, went whoring (see III 26), or performed any action military or domestic without the order of the consul. Clearly this ordering extends beyond the battle ordering of 1116, and so the difficulty of maintaining ardor extends beyond the day of battle to the ultimate end of conquering the world. That end was accom¬ plished by two different Roman armies, both fighting over time under the order of a consul rather than all at once by means of a successful individual combat. Armies that do otherwise than the Roman are not “true armies,” and if they have any success it is from ardor and impetus, and not from virtue. But where “ordered virtue” uses its ardor “with modes and with the times,” no difficulty weakens it or makes it lose spirit; for good orders refresh spirit and ardor, nourished by the hope of victory that never fails as long as the orders remain solid. Machiavelli almost identifies natural ardor with spirit (animo) when con¬ trolled by ordered virtue; certainly the Romans had it as much as the French. Armies such as the French, where there is ardor and no order, produce the contrary result. When they did not win with the first rush, the ardor in which they placed hope not being sustained with ordered virtue, they had nothing besides that in which to trust; and as they cooled off, they lost (compare the short and big w ars of the French, praised in II 6). On the contrary, the Romans fought firmly and obstinately w ith the same spirit and virtue at the end as at the beginning; indeed, w hen they were stirred up with arms, they always grew7 more fiery. Machiavelli emphasizes that the first two armies are contrary to each other, though they share ardor. He dismisses the third kind of army, having neither natural ardor nor accidental order. These are “our Italian armies of our times,” altogether useless, w hich never w in unless they encounter an army that for some accident runs away. No examples are needed to see that “every day” they give proof of having no virtue whatever. But w ith the testimony of Livy, everyone understands how' a good militia should be made and how a bad one is made: “I w ish” to adduce the words of Papirius Cursor w hen he w ished to punish Fabius, master of the horse. And he quotes at length the speech of Papirius castigating Fabius for fighting against orders when the auspices w^ere uncertain, and claiming that one instance of disobedience unpunished breaks the chain of command from the lowest human being to the gods and reduces the army to a gang of robbers “blind and fortuitous” rather than “solemn and consecrated.” One can easily see in this text, Machiavelli intones, w hether the militia of our day is blind and fortuitous or consecrated and solemn, and how much it falls short of being “similar to w hat one can call militia,” and how far it is from furious and ordered like the Roman, or furious only, like the French. In II 16 he w as w illing to allow' that “all the Christian armies today” are capable of one big rush, but now he seems to deny even that.

MACHIA VELLl’s STRATEGY

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What can be called militia is not only an army in the field, as we saw throughout Book II. Papirius makes it clear that “ordered virtue” includes reli¬ gion for the soldiers, but does “ordered virtue” justify his attempt to punish Fabius, w hose successful initiative Machiavelli had praised in II 3 3?8 He said Livy’s testimony would show7 us how a bad militia is made, and in the chapter title he promised to give us the “causes” in the plural why the French cannot sustain their manliness. One cause is that their ardor is not ordered; another could be that it is badly ordered. Armies need to manage what is blind and fortuitous by rendering it consecrated and solemn; that is, they need to manage chance w ith religion. But they also need the initiative of men of virtue—of new men capable of creating new armies and of appealing to the people against the established authorities. Religion should be used not to sustain the authority of the fathers or the status quo, but to justify the new and thus to sustain the ardor of youth. Religion misused to maintain the old order intact generates precisely the Freneh fury without order as it concentrates an uncontrolled fury on w ho¬ ever breaks the chain of command. “Ordered virtue” must allow a break in the “order,” in w hat the classical political philosophers called nomos, and use reli¬ gion to sanctify, that is, conceal, the break.9

III 37

Other tactical questions are the subject of the one-hundred-thirtieth chapter: whether small battles are necessary before the main battle, and what one should do to know a new enemy if one wishes to avoid such battles. Machiavelli begins w ith a repetition of one of his better-know n maxims and turns it into a retrac¬ tion. It appears, he says, as discussed elsewhere, that in human actions one finds that in w ishing to bring a thing to its perfection, there is always some evil next to the good which arises so easily w ith that good that it appears impossible not to have one if one wishes for the other. I Ie said in 1 6, w hile explaining why “you” cannot manage a great empire as you would like (a tuo modo), that one inconvenience can never be canceled w ithout another’s arising. Now he says this only appears to be so, and he adds that you acquire good w ith difficulty unless you are aided by fortune in overcoming “this ordinary and natural incon¬ venience.” His intimation is that the wish for perfection in human actions originates the thought of the perfect good or God unaided by fortune and in control of it, a tuo modo. This human w ish now seems humanly attainable, or more so than w hen Machiavelli took his first view of the Roman empire. Machiavelli has been reminded of this by the fight betw een Manlius and that Frenchman (compare Ill 36). Livy says that this single combat was momentous for the w hole w ar because the army of the Gauls fled in terror afterw ard. On the one hand, he considers that a good captain should avoid anything of little 8. See Livy, VII 35. 9: Papirius referred to the example of Manlius who killed his son and maintained military discipline. Livy says that the danger that Fabius would be punished confirmed military authority as much as the execution of young Manlius. I hat execution, he implies, w as unnecessary. 9. Consider the action of NM’s Mandragola, in which the sanctity of marriage is preserved by being first violated and then restored w ith a concealed repair.

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moment that could have bad effects on his army, since it is rash in the extreme to risk all one’s fortune w ithout using all one’s forces, as he said above (I 23) when he condemned the guarding of passes. For Machiavelli and his army, fighting in single combat (see I 22) is like guarding the passes; it risks everything on the outcome of a philosopher’s argument w ithout bringing into the fight favorable political forces that would support the argument. Machiavelli the philosopher cannot remake the w orld in the w ay of the flood survivor in II 5; but he ean manage it a suo modo using all his forces. On the other hand, “I consider”—all this is in the first person—that wise eaptains, meeting a new7 enemy of some reputation, must have his soldiers make trial of that enemy with light battles so as to begin to know7 and to manage it, and to dispel the terror of its reputation. This is very important for a captain, for it is almost a necessity that constrains you, when you appear to be going to clear defeat, to take away that terror from your soldiers “with little experiences.” Some of the jokes and parodies in the Discourses might be counted among such “light battles” and “little experiences.” Valerius Corvinus (the young Valerius of I 60) w as sent w ith his army by the Romans against the Samnites, w ho were new enemies, and Livy says that he used light battles for dispelling the terror of a new7 w ar (now7 added) and a new7 enemy. There is nonetheless a very grave danger that your soldiers will be defeated in these battles, so close is the evil to the good; but “I say” that a good captain will not let any aceident take away the spirit of his army. Machiavelli repeats his w arning against guarding passes and adds that the captain should not guard cities (terre) unless their loss would be ruinous; if he guards them he should contrive that with that guard and his army, he can use all his forces. Every time that he loses something abandoned, and his army remains intact, he loses neither reputation in war nor hope of victory. The harm comes when you lose something you have planned to defend and everybody believes you are defending, for then you have almost, like the French, lost the war with a thing of little moment. Noting the increasing emphasis on guarding and defending, we construe Machiavelli’s words to say that in defending the world, he is not taking on the obligation to defend any particular part of it, not even Italy or Florence. We are then presented two examples of not defending: Philip of Macedon, attacked by the Romans, prudently judged that it was more pernicious to lose his reputation by defending his lands than to lose them as something neglected by leaving them as booty for the enemy; and the Romans after their defeat at Cannae denied aid to many dependents and subjects, recommending that they defend themselves as best they could. But Philip had been presented in III 10 as unsuccessful in running away from the Romans, and in Livy we find that the Campanians whom the Romans committed to self-defense (after Cannae) w ent over to Hannibal.10 If we then elevate these examples, we have a capsule history 10. Livy, XXIII 7. 1.

MACHIAVELLI’S STRATEGY

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of what happened as the world surrendered to the Christian Romans in the first example, and of w hat will happen to those Romans, in the second example. Returning to small battles, Maehiavelli says that a captain may fight them with a new' enemy if he ean do so with no danger of losing, but the better poliey is to do w hat Marius did when faced w ith the Cimbri, a very ferocious people that came to plunder Italy. The Cimbri raised a great fight because of their ferocity, their multitude, and their previous victory over a Roman army; so Marius judged it necessary to take away the terror from his army. Like a very prudent captain he put his army where they could see the Cimbri pass, and from w ithin the fortresses (compare II 24) of their camp, his soldiers accustomed their eyes to the sight of that enemy, and saw a disorderly multitude, encum¬ bered with baggage, with useless arms and partly disarmed. This wise policy of Marius’ should be diligently imitated, Maehiavelli concludes, so as not to incur the dangers he spoke of and to have to do as the French did. I le adapts the first Livy quotation in the chapter, saying that the French were frightened by a thing of little moment. The Cimbri represent the Christian tradition with its war¬ ring factions, its heavy and useless texts, and its inadequate proofs.11 The new enemy is not a terrible army but a corrupt tradition to w hose weakness Machiavelli’s ardent recruits must become accustomed so that they are not frightened by a thing of little moment, say, divine punishment.

III 38

The chapter ends as Maehiavelli says that he w ishes to show in the following chapter, by means of the words of Valerius Corvinus, how a captain should be made. The title of that chapter specifies the make of a captain in w hich his army can have confidence, as compared to the making of the army’s confidence in its captain, which was the topic of III 33. Valerius not only used light battles to reassure his soldiers and to make them know their new enemy, but also, since this was not enough, he spoke to them, showing how little they should esteem the enemy and asserting the virtue of his soldiers and his ow n virtue. One ean learn through the words that Livy “makes” him say, how a captain should be “made” in w hom the army has confidence. We see that a captain is made or perfected as the standard for imitation by the action of an author in making an historical character say appropriate words, but now, as contrasted w ith III 33, Maehiavelli indicates clearly that his making differs from Livy’s, if indeed Livy intends at all to show how a captain should be made.12 Machiavelli’s making is based on the human wish for perfection in human actions alluded to in III 37, and the exemplary captain is Valerius, the kind and humane captain w hose identity w as established in III 22.13 Livy’s making is perhaps only reportorial or historian’s imputation when a record of w hat w as said is lacking. What do we learn from Valerius’ words or rather the words Livy makes him say? Valerius vaunts his own virtue as the captain who is no mere orator, and adds: “Soldiers, I w ish you to follow my deeds not my words, and look to me 11. S., p. 154. 12. S., pp. 152-154, 323n 154. 13. S., p. 326nl8l.

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not only for instruction but also for example, who with this right hand have won for myself three consulships and the highest praise.” Following, therefore, the captain’s deeds, we see that Machiavelli has put Valerius’ entire speech in direct speech, whereas Livy has used indirect speech until the passage we have quoted. With this change of quotation marks Livy is made to speak by Machiavelli as Valerius was made to speak by Livy, with the consequence that a man of w ords is treated by a man of words as the man of words treats the man of deeds: Livy’s speeches become Machiavelli’s deeds. We recall from III 33 that a captain in w hom his army can have confidence must be prudent, and that he show s his prudence by careful attention to “little things.” The deeds of prudent writers are “little things” such as a change of quotation marks, auspices, so to speak, of the author’s intention. After the quotation Machiavelli says that these “words,” well considered, teach anyone how to proceed if he wishes to hold the rank (grado) of captain. So we are apprised that Machiavelli does not subscribe to Valerius’ injunction to follow' deeds, not w ords. He is aw are of the irony of a speech in favor of deeds (as were Livy and Valerius, perhaps), and his deeds—which he too performs with his right arm14—are speeches that need to be changed from indirect to direct speech, that is, to be interpreted. Even when he speaks as the “magnificent exhorter” that Valerius affected to despise, his speeches must be interpreted. A captain “made otherw ise,” Machiavelli continues, will find in time that his rank, w hether it came to him by fortune or ambition, w ill take away and not give reputation, for titles do not give luster to men, but men give luster to titles. It seems that considering these words well is tantamount to, or identical with, being made a captain. One should understand that inherited titles do not give luster to men, but men give luster to new titles, not to mention that the titles in question could be titles of books. One should also consider “from the beginning of this discourse” that if great captains have used extraordinary means to firm the spirits of a veteran army against unaccustomed enemies, how7 much greater art (industria) has to be used w hen one commands a new7 army that has never had the enemy in sight. The enemy, he implies, is partly invisible, partly not customarily seen as the enemy. The “beginning of this discourse,” if it is about inspiriting a veteran army, was in III 37; so the present chapter is not so much about making a captain generally as about making a captain of a new army, facing a new7 enemy in a new7 land (II 33). This would be a peculiar narrow ing of a military topic if the ordinary sense of “military” w ere not too narrow7. Good captains, Machiavelli says, have been seen to overcome all these diffi¬ culties many times, and he cites “Gracchus the Roman and Epaminondas the Theban,” of whom he has spoken elsewhere, for having conquered veteran armies w ith new7 armies. Both of them trained armies of slaves, he says elsewhere (121; 11 26; III 13); and he says here that their modes were to exercise 14. NM has omitted part of the quotation before “right arm”; Livy, VII 32. 12.

M ACHI A VELLl’s STRATEGY

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them in “mock battles” (see II 17). Machiavelli’s mock battles were not won on the playing fields of Eton. He concludes the chapter by restating the truest truth of I 21 and the conclusion of III 13: That prince who has plenty of men and lacks soldiers should complain not of the cowardice of men but only of his own laziness and lack of prudence. Having considered how a good militia and a good captain are “made,” as well as inspiriting speeches that are deeds and mock battles that are speeches, Machiavelli now turns to know ledge and images, and so far as possible lays bare the character and ground of his making. “That a captain should be a know er of sites” is the title, but Machiavelli moves quickly to “philosophical” reflections rare w ith him and to a discussion of science unique in both the Discourses and The Prince. Among other things necessary to a captain of armies, he says (for one could be a captain without an army, see III 37 end), is the knowledge of sites and countries. Without this general and particular know ledge, a captain cannot work anything well. Because all the sciences demand (literally, “wash”) practice if one wishes to possess them perfectly, this is one that requires very great practice. This practice, or in truth this particular know ledge, is acquired more by means of hunting than through any other exercise, Machiavelli asserts. It appears that the wishing by w hich men make perfect things (III 37) is grounded in the “w ishing” or “requiring” of science that it be perfectly possessed; the human wish for perfection is vain unless human know ledge can be perfect. We shall not find in this chapter any indication that human knowledge must be perfected through divine revelation, rather, the contrary. Practice in order to possess the sciences is not merely preparatory or an “exercise”; it is also particu¬ lar knowledge, w hich is already science. But what is general know ledge? “The know ledge of sites and of countries” does not seem to be more general than hunting, but only the end of the means. Machiavelli does not say anything more about general know ledge, even though general know ledge would appear to be the ground of particular know ledge, and thus the guarantee of human w ishing for perfection. “I lunting” reminds us of seeking to possess, but not of perfection in possessing; it is an exercise that is not only a means to an end but also an end in itself. The ancient writers say, Machiavelli says, that the heroes w ho used to govern the world in their time w ere nourished in the forests and in hunting, for hunting teaches countless things necessary to w ar besides the knowledge of sites. I hint¬ ing is a general education, but for the w arrior not for the professional hunter. 1o Machiavelli brings up Xenophon, w ho shows in his life of Cyrus that w hen Cyrus w as attacking the king of Armenia, he explained “to his [men]” that the campaign w as nothing but a hunt such as they had often done before w ith him. The men in ambush were similar to hunters holding the nets, and the men 15. Xenophon, Cyropaidcia II. 4. 26: philotheria.

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riding the plain were similar to hunters flushing the quarry from its cover. Thus Xenophon makes it clear that hunting is uan image of a war,” and Machiavelli adds that for great men such an exercise is “honorable and necessary.” Hunting is hqiiorablc^as well as necessary, and it is educational not only because it teaches such particular knowledge as the knowledge of sites but also because it is as a whole an image of war. In 11T3 Machiavelli described Cyrus’ expedition against the king of Armenia as “full of fraud”16 and we note that Cyrus explains his deceptive operation, according to Xenophon, to his officers, and not in public like Papirius on the making of a good militia in III 36 and Valerius on the making of a good captain in III 38.17 Even so, Xenophon does not have Cyrus call hunting “an image of war,” because he is interested in the difference be¬ tween hunters in the most general sense and warriors.18 Machiavelli, like Xenophon, wants hunters to teach warriors; but he appears to think that the philosopher’s general knowledge can be made available to political men without any loss to philosophy, as if Xenophon’s hero were only Cyrus and not also Socrates. Accordingly, Machiavelli does not use hunting as an image of war, but war as an image of hunting—for converts and recruits. For the rest of the chapter Machiavelli returns to hunting as particular knowl¬ edge of sites rather than as an image or as a kind of untruth. He claims that hunting is the only way to gain knowledge of countries, for by hunting one becomes familiar with one region and can then easily understand all new coun¬ tries. knowledge of new countries, he indicates, is equivalent to knowledge of the whole, because one can know the whole only by moving from the familiar to the new, and one can know the new only by supposing that it has “some conformity” with the familiar. Whoever has not “practiced well” one country or one “member” can hardly or never except after a long time know another, but

L

whoever has this practice knows with a glance of his eye how the plain, the mountain, and the valley lie, and all similar things of which he has heretofore made a “firm science.” Knowledge of new countries is gained by a way “similar” to the making of images, except that with images we can hunt out invisible similarities. That such facility comes from “firm science” Titus Livy shows with the example of Publius Decius. Machiavelli proceeds to quote three passages from Livy clearly distinguished as words of Livy’s character, words of Livy and words Livy makes him say.19 Decius was a tribune in a Roman army that had been surrounded by the Samnites, and he spied a summit above the enemy, neglected by the “blind Samnites,” which could be the “fortress of our hope and salvation,” as he told the consul (compare II 24). Before these words of Decius, 16. Xenophon’s work is called the “Education of Cyrus,” not the “Life of Cyrus,” and Cyrus’ education in hunting is said to include education in deceit, Cypropaideia I. 6. 28, 37. P. 14. 17. Xenophon, Cyropaideia I. 4. 21. 18. Cyrus warns against the distractions of the professional hunter, ibid., II. 4. 26-28. Cf. Lefort, p. 674. 19. S., pp. 154-155.

M ACHI A VELLl’s STRATEGY

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Livy said that Decius had seen the hill which was accessible to light-armed men without baggage. Then after the consul sent Decius to the summit with soldiers, Livy has him tell his soldiers to come with him to find the w ay out among the enemy’s guards w hile there is light; and Decius went about in a soldier’s cloak so that the enemy would not notice the leader. This last is surely Livy’s thought, but Machiavelli has him saying it through his character so that we clearly see Livy putting his thought into the words of his character or rather Machiavelli making him do so. The reason for this procedure is beautifully stated in Livy’s thought w hen it is taken as an image of Machiavelli’s military activity: the leader puts on a soldier’s cloak so that he will not be noticed by the enemy. In this use of image an historical truth (Livy’s explanation for Decius’ putting on the cloak) becomes a poetical untruth (Machiavelli hiding in that cloak) in order to teach us the truth about Machiavelli’s strategy. To make his science available to political men, Machiavelli uses a truth as an image of a greater truth; he makes history serve as poetry for the sake of political science. This political science is conveyed in the same manner as it is conceived, by looking for some conformity in the new with the familiar, but of course his conceiving does not require the same images in the same order as his conveying. Unlike a poet he is not a captive of his images, and to prove it he puts everything he know s in each of two very different books. Whoever considers “all this text,” Machiavelli says in an unusually explicit hint, w ill see how useful and necessary it is for a captain to know the “nature” of countries (paesi: see l 1); for perhaps the “nature” of a thing is its pow er of serving as an image of something else. If Decius had not know n them, he would not Lave been able to judge how useful it would be to take that hill, he would not have known from afar w hether the hill was accessible, and once atop the hill, he would not have been able to distinguish the ways to escape and the places guarded by the enemy. So it w as of necessity fitting that Decius had such know;ledgC-perfected (“of necessity” because Livy says nothing of his hunting or of his “firm science”); by taking the hill he saved the Roman army and after¬ ward, w hen beseiged, he knew how to find the w ay to save himself and those who were with him, the chapter concludes. Decius’ “perfected” know ledgc_is. knowledge of particulars fronyafar for the sake of saving oneself and one’s army: pe rhapyTh i s~is~ge ne ralkno w jedge for human Teings. Machiavelli used Xenophon to show hunting as catching, but he used Livy and Livy’s Roman to show hunting as the w ay to know ledge of the nature of things by w hich one can save oneself. '1 his “firm science” isthe fortress of our hope and salvation, and gives Machiavelli’s troops an obstinacy greater than that of the blind Sammtes. The fortress is easily accessible for those unencumbered with baggage (III 37), but as we learn from “all this text,” it was uninhabitable because it lacked food and water.20 By knowing the hill Decius saved himselt; 20. Livy, VII 35. 8; cf. D. I 1 on Alexander’s rejection of Mt. Athos as the site for his city.

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by taking his army there he saved his army; and by taking his army off the hill, he saved himself together with his army because knojvyledgeof things above men is not enough for human salvation. It is an accident that Machiavelli was able to find that striking phrase from the Psalms in the mouth of Livy’s Roman, but it is no accident that he chose to place it in his one-hundred-thirty-second chapter in the midst of his only discussion of his science.21 If hunting is an image of war, the deceptions of hunters make one think of fraud in war. The next chapter is entitled: “How the use of fraud in managing war is a glorious thing.” Machiavelli hastens to assure us that using fraud in every action is detestable, as if anyone ever used fraud in every action. Yet, he says, to use it in managing a war is praiseworthy and glorious, and he who overcomes the enemy w ith fraud is praised equally (see below) w ith him w ho conquers w ith force. This can be seen in the judgment of those w ho write the lives of great men, as they praise Hannibal and others who have been very notable in such modes of proceeding. Since many examples may be read, I shall not repeat any, he says, and then proceeds to repeat three of them in the rest of the chapter. It appears that Machiavelli wishes to show the glory not of the great men of w horn the w riters write, but of the great men w ho write. I shall say only this, he says, that I do not understand that fraud to be glorious that makes you break faith pledged and pacts made; this can sometimes acquire you power and rule, as is said above, but will never gain you glory. This statement can hardly be accepted as anything other than fraudulent if w e com¬ bine II 13, where Machiavelli says fraud is necessary to go from low fortune to high, with III 13, where he says he doubles the glory of the captain w ho not merely conquers the enemy but also first instructs his ow n army (for a captain w ithout an army is unfortunate). He says that he is speaking of that fraud used w ith an enemy w ho does not trust you, w hich properly consists in managing a war. Fraud is respectable if it is used against an untrusting enemy, that is, depending on the respectability of defending or promoting one’s native country. Machiavelli does not argue any distinctions betw een permissible and impermis¬ sible fraud, as did classical and medieval philosophers, and he goes beyond justifying fraud to call it glorious.22 Machiavelli instances two frauds of Hannibal w hen he simulated flight in order to trap a consul and a Roman army, and when, to get out of the hands of Fabius Maximus, he set the horns of his cattle on fire. Similar to these w as the fraud perpetrated by Pontius, captain of the Samnites, in order to trap the Roman army in the Caudine Forks; and this stratagem Machiavelli explains somewhat. Pontius put his army behind the hills and sent more of his soldiers in shepherd’s clothing with many cattle to the plain; they were taken by the Romans and when questioned, all said by Pontius’ order that the Samnite army w as at the siege of Nocera. This the consuls believed, and it caused them to be 21. Psalms 18:62. Cf. Lefort, p. 676. 22. Cf. W., II 204.

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trapped inside the Caudine eliffs. This victory achieved through fraud would have been very glorious for Pontius if he had followed the advice of the “father,” who wanted him either to let the Romans save themselves freely or to kill them all, and not to take the middle way w hich (quoting Livy) “neither provides friends nor removes enemies.” The middle way is alw ays pernicious in matters of state, as is discussed above. All three examples are of successful frauds against the Romans, an “enemy w ho does not trust you”; and all concern an ambush or trap in a narrow pass through hills, which was the operation of Cyrus in III 39 that caused Machiavelli to infer that hunting is an image of war. In the first example Machiavelli alters Livy’s account that Hannibal left his camp in the open as a decoy to a more inglorious simulated flight.23 The second example is an escape from an encirclement in which the animals were made to charge through the surrounding army, frightening it with an apparently superhuman wonder (miraculum).24 As for the last example, the shepherd’s disguise is easily pene¬ trated; and the mistake of Pontius, the middle way between letting the Romans saving themselves freely and killing them all, w as to put them under the yoke, for as the nameless father or “old one” (11 23) said, following Machiavelli’s quotation from Livy, “the Roman race does not know how to be quiet in defeat.” This old man’s advice may be compared to that of the “old and prudent citizen” Hanno, who advised that the Carthaginians use their victory at Cannae to make peace (11 27) and who also remarked on the Roman disinclination to beg for peace after a defeat (II 30).25 Instead of putting men under the yoke as did the Samnites and the modern Romans, Machiavelli w ill use his victory to make peace, w hich is a middle way betw een conquering and being defeated. To make peace means to allow men the exercise of their spirited nature in seeking victory and glory; it means offering advice like a nameless old father, and keeping faith and pacts with the glory-seekers by not seeking to engross all their glory. Pontius’ victory would have been “very glorious” for him if he had not left his opponents burning w ith shame, but Machiavelli promises himself the greatest glory of not seeking glory, the glory which comes to the view of only his attentive readers. Using fraud in every action, he shows in this chapter that the glory of using fraud in managing war consists in the fraud of not seeking glory.

In

4i

If in III 40 Machiavelli uses the fatherland to make glory respectable, in III 41 he uses it to make ignominy respectable. The title is: “That the fatherland should be defended w hether w ith ignominy or with glory; and it is well de¬ fended in any mode w hatever.” He begins from the last example of the preced¬ ing chapter, in w hich the consul and Roman army w ere surrounded by the Samnites at the Caudine Forks. The Samnites had fixed most ignominious 23. Livy, XXII 4. 3. 24. Livy, XXII 17. 6. 25. S., p. 328n 192.

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conditions on the Romans (putting them under the yoke and sending them back to Rome disarmed), and so the consuls were as though dazed and the army in despair. But a Roman lieutenant, Lucius Lentulus, said it did not appear to him that any policy to save the fatherland should be avoided, and since the life of Rome consisted in the life of this army, the army should be saved “in every mode.” The fatherland is well defended in any mode whatever, whether with ignominy or with glory; for if the army were saved, Rome would have time to cancel the ignominy, whereas if it were not saved, even though it died very gloriously, Rome and its liberty were lost. So his advice was followed. W e see that accepting ignominy is the way to take advantage of the Samnites’ mistake explained in III 40 and to defeat them: Let oneself be called a sinner if only the sin be in defense of the fatherland. Lentulus’ acceptance of ignominy is of course not wholehearted, because he expects that in time Rome will recover and cancel the ignominy. As those consuls may not have time to atone for their errors, how ever, his advice amounts to a warning that the glory of the consuls or captains is not identical with the interest of the fatherland. It is, therefore, very fittingly a lieutenant’s advice, and Machiavelli awards him the fame of being mentioned and praised, for the same reason that he had withheld it in III 40 from the father of Pontius. Machiavelli comments that this thing deserves to be noted and observed by any citizen who finds himself advising “his fatherland.” When one deliberates solely on the safety of one’s country, no consideration should enter either of just or unjust, pious or cruel, praiseworthy or ignominious; indeed, putting aside every other concern (rispetto) one should follow to the utmost the policy that saves its life and maintains its freedom, apparently freedom from foreign domi¬ nation. Machiavelli goes well beyond Livy’s Lentulus, who had said nothing of just or unjust, etc., but laid stress on the pressure of necessity, which Machiavelli does not mention.26 He says that this policy is “imitated” by the sayings and deeds of the French in order to defend the majesty of their king and the power of their kingdom; the French hear no voice with more (youthful?) impatience king.” For whether in is an affair

than that which would say, “such a policy is ignominious for the they say their king can suffer no shame in any deliberation of his, good or adverse fortune, because whether he loses or wins, all say it of the king’s.

One should note that while the French king’s majesty and the power of his kingdom can be defended together—because the king “wishes” no parties in his kingdom (III 27)—the consul’s glory and the liberty of the republic do not necessarily coincide. Nonetheless Machiavelli can “imitate” the things said about the French king, which sound like the things said about God’s will. The things said about the French king are different from, but consistent with, even necessary to, the laws and orders that maintain his kingdom (I 16, 19, 58; III 1)

26. Livy, IX 4. 16; cf. XXIII 14. 2-3.

MACHIAVELLIS STRATEGY

III 41

42 7

because security in a kingdom requires majesty. The shamelessness of the king draws off the shame of men, especially young men, who hate to be beaten, and they can attribute the shame of losing to adverse fortune. Such shamelessness leads to deeds both pious and cruel, when done for the majesty of the king; but when done for the republic’s liberty, they are both just and unjust. As we recall from II 2, one republic’s liberty is often maintained at the expense of another’s; so Machiavelli’s advice to “his fatherland,” which comprises many conflicting republics, is bound to be both just and unjust to any one of them.

III 42

Machiavelli now discourses on a Machiavellian maxim, “that promises made through force should not be observed,” while continuing to use the example of the Roman defeat by the Samnites at the Caudine Forks. When the consuls returned to Rome, he begins, w ith the disarmed army and w ith the ignominy they received, the first to say that the peace should not be kept w as the consul Spurius Postumius, a man of the same name as the one sent to Athens to find law s that would serve as the foundation of Roman laws (I 40). I le said that the Roman people was not obligated, but only himself and the others who had “promised” the peace. So if the people w ished to be free of every obligation, including those acquired through “some grave villainy” (III 32), they had only to deliver those w ho had “promised” the peace into the hands of the Samnites. This conclusion he maintained with such “obstinacy” that the Senate agreed, sent them to the Samnites, and claimed that the peace w as not valid. In this case fortune so favored Postumius (he had been in charge at the defeat) that the Samnites did not hold him; and w hen he returned to Rome, he was esteemed more glorious by the Romans for having lost than w as Pontius by the Samnites for having won. We are given “two things to be noted.” The first is that one can acquire glory in any action whatever, Machiavelli says in contradition of his opinion in III 41 that ignominy might have to be accepted; but he was impressed by the glory this defeated consul won w ith his sacrificial offer to be a slave and so to free all Romans of their obligation. I le says that one can acquire glory “ordinarily” in victory, but in defeat it is gained either by showing the defeat w as not your fault (see III 35) or by doing some deed suddenly that cancels it (compare III 41), for example, as we have inferred from III 40, a glorious renunciation of glory. The other notable thing is that it is not shameful not to keep those promises that you were made to promise under duress. Forced promises regarding the public w ill always be broken w hen the force is removed, and w ithout shame for him who breaks them, as can be read in many examples in all the histories, and seen every day in present times. This happens not only among princes, but also w ith all other promises, when the causes that forced one to promise are removed. Whether this thing is praiseworthy, and whether a prince should observe such modes, are “disputed by us at length in our treatise De Principe; so for the present we will be silent about it.” We might wonder why anyone goes to the trouble of forcing promises if they

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are not kept when the force is removed. And, indeed, we would have sufficient examples to be seen every day of promises made under duress kept at great sacrifice w hen the compulsion was lifted, even if we could not read the very example Machiavelli supplies us. In Livy we find a complicated evasion of a peace treaty that was both shameless and ridiculous because it w as carried out in public; after Postumius surrendered himself to the Samnites he gave the Roman ambassador a kick, as if he were a Samnite breaking the peace.27 His evasion presupposes that forced promises are obligatory, and Machiavelli also overlooks Livy’s implied accusation of faithlessness against the Romans put in the mouth of the Samnite Pontius.28 But he means to accuse the Samnites of responsibility for the Roman evasion of their promise, because it is true piety such as dis¬ played by the Samnites that forces contrived piety such as the Roman. The real issue, as Spurius Postumius said, is whether gods exist that enforce promises w hen men cannot. Machiavelli was fortunate indeed to find in Livy a man to indicate that they do not, at least in the afterlife. At the end of this central chapter of the last section he says “we” to mean “I,” for he too is forced to make promises to w in over allies and to allay the fear of enemies. Machiavelli as prince makes promises to princes; this is w hy he refers to “our treatise” as De Principe in

Ill 43

III 42, and as de Principati in II 1. Promises are useful because men are ashamed to break them, but Machiavelli points out that such shame makes men either hypocritical like the Romans or victims of hypocrites like the Samnites. The discussion now7 turns to faithlessness or unkept promises that were not made under duress, and attempts to answer the question implicitly posed in III 42: Wh) do men need to be sustained w ith promises? It takes place in the frame of a statement about the nature of men, “that men born in one province keep almost the same nature through all times.” I his is the only chapter in the Discourses with “nature” in its title (it is the one hundred thirty-sixth29), but Machiavelli seems to w ander confusedly between the determinism of “nature” and the voluntarism of the man-made “form of education.” We may make sense of his confusion by connecting it to the topic of faithlessness. Prudent men habitually say, “and not by chance or without merit” (which also means, not truly), that whoever wishes to see what has to be should con¬ sider w hat has been, for all worldly things (note the exclusion) in every time have their own counterpart (riscontro) in ancient times. This arises because such things being operated by men, who have and always have had the same passions, they result of necessity in the same effect. Explaining what prudent men habitually say, as opposed to w hat they think, Machiavelli is led to state the manifest falsehood that the same human passions produce the same effect. He concedes, it is true that men’s w orks are now7 more virtuous in this province than in that, according to the “form of education” in which those peoples have 27. Livy, IX 10. 12. 28. Livy, IX 11. 16-18; see D II 13, end; S., p. 140. 29. S., p. 301n9.

MACHIAVELLl’s STRATEGY

[II 43

429

received their way of living. It is also easy to know future things from past, to see a nation keep the same customs for a long time, being either continually avaricious or continually fraudulent, or having some other similar vice or virtue (is being “fraudulent” a virtue?). So Machiavelli admits local variation in human beings as “almost the same nature” is reduced to the “same customs” according to different forms of education, but why does he not also admit temporal variation? Whoever will read of things past in our city of Florence, and will consider recent events, w ill find the Germans and the French full of avarice, pride, ferocity, and infidelity; for these four things have caused much harm to our city in different times. Machiavelli gives three examples of avarice and faithlessness in the French and Germans, while passing over pride and ferocity, which he had discussed in regard to the French in Ill 36. First, as for faithlessness, he brings up w hat “everyone know s,” how often money w as given to King Charles VIII; he promised to turn over the fortresses of Pisa, and never did so. In this the king showed his faithlessness and his great avarice. If w e leave “these fresh things,” everyone can understand what happened in the w ar that the Florentine people made against the Visconti, dukes of Milan. Florence, lacking other means, decided to bring in the emperor to attack Lombardy; the emperor prom¬ ised to come and defend Florence against the Visconti if the Florentines would give a hundred thousand ducats to start with, and the same when he got to Italy. The Florentines paid up twice, but the emperor turned back at Verona without accomplishing anything, alleging that they had not kept the conventions made between them. Machiavelli says that if Florence had not been either constrained by necessity or conquered by passion (here necessity and passion are distinct; above they were together), and had read and known the ancient customs of the barbarians, it would not have been deceived by them this time nor many other times; and Machiavelli adds an example from Livy of what the French did in ancient times to the Tuscans. We begin to sense that the examples concern not so much French and German faithlessness (the Germans had been distinguished from the French in I 55) as Florentine credulity, the credulity of “our city.” The Florentines should not have been deceived as they often were; their “nature” or “customs” seem to be credulity, and yet unlike the French and Germans, they seem to be thought capable of reform. The Tuscans were being pressed by the Romans, and came to agreement w ith the French living in Italy on this side of the Alps (note the extendable size of the “one province” Machiavelli appears to be discussing) to give the French money in return for an obligation to join the I uscans against the Romans. Once the French had taken the money, they were not w illing to take up arms for the Tuscans; they said they had received the money not to make w ar on the I useans’ enemies but to abstain from plundering their country. Thus the 1 uscans, through the avarice and faithlessness of the French, w ere deprived at one stroke of their money and of the aid they had hoped for. Thus one sees, by the

430 III 43

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examples of the aneient Tuscans and the Florentines, that the French used the same means (termini); and so one can easily conjecture, Machiavelli concludes, how much princes can trust them. Again we are impressed by continuity in the behavior more of the Florentines than of the French, for the conduct of the barbarians, who always used “one way” and the “same means,” was no more fraudulent or faithless than could easily be inferred from their avarice, which in turn could more truly be imputed to their human nature (I 37; II pr.) or to the necessity of acquisition (I 6) than to barbarian customs. Although the true subject of III 43 is credulity, as that of III 42 was hypocrisy, it is kept hidden; and the Florentines are not scolded for the foolishness of buying off wars as they were in II 30. Their credulity, based on their hope of outside aid, is not condemned as it was in I 7. The reason for this, and for the confusion between nature and education, is to be found in Machiavelli’s treatment of the passions, represented here in his alliance with the “French.” Florentine credulity overlooks the nature and necessities of men while placing hope in outside aid; it regards the desire for acquisition as unnecessary and calls it “avarice,” as does Machiavelli in this chapter. But he also says that the passions reflect human necessities so that they would not be morally blameable. By stating both possibilities, he suggests both are necessary and in some sense true, although he has made it known throughout this work that the guide for human life should be human necessities rather than divine commands and the remedy one’s ow n arms rather than reliance on outside aid. Then w hy does he not defend “avarice” by explaining the need for acquisition? The answ er is that most men cannot stand to look at necessity, especially their own; they would be overcome with fear to learn that they are alone and paralyzed with shame if their conduct were to be determined by a scientific analysis of the passions. They need a measure of credulity and hypoerisy to sustain their hope for outside aid, w hich is in truth fear of their ow n weakness. Machiavelli treats the grasping passions in III 43; seven chapters earlier, he treated the defensive passions. He keeps them separate, but by ascribing both to the “Freneh,” for strong passions are youthful, he hints that we should consider them together. When we do, we find that each of the two kinds of passions is justified in its excess by the other. Avarice would be an unnecessary excess in desire for acquisition, if men need to acquire only so much, but when we connect the desire for acquisition to the need for self-defense against angry gods or unfriendly nature, excess becomes necessary. Similarly, ardor or fury in self-defense is excessive unless it is linked to the need for steady acquisition in the combination called “ordered virtue” in III 36. Machiavelli, then, keeps the grasping and the defensive passions distinct so as to save the appearance of excess and hence to show7 some respect for the moral outlook. Yet to do this without carrying the full burden of shame, hypocrisy, and credulity, he must have prudent men mix human nature and custom in what they say, as he does in this chapter. To keep up hope and to keep dow n the risk

machiavelli’s strategy

II 43

431

of deceit they should have men believe that others’ customs are unchanging and their own reformable. Thus men can blame the French and not human nature, that is, themselves, for their failures; and at the same time, through distrust of an ally, they can improve their self-esteem and even their self-knowledge. Fur¬ thermore, men’s hopes for aid are expressed in those promises called prophecies, in the things “everyone knows.” In III 43, everyone knows of the faithlessness of a French king, as contrasted with signs of outside aid which everyone knows in I 56. Such promises have in modern times been under the control of priests who have used them to hold men with shame in weakness; at the end of I 1 I Machiavelli spoke w ith sardonic contempt of Florentine credulity in regard to Savonarola. Now, using the technique of personification by “nation,” a tech¬ nique he may have learned from the sermons of Savonarola,30 he proposes to take over prediction of “future things” from the priests and to base it on past achievements for the sake of future improvement. Such prediction is not the work of science, by which one learns new countries by learning one site well (III

II 44

39); it is the work of prudence, by w hich one learns easily ascertained repre¬ sentations of provinces in order to know oneself better. Machiavelli ends III 43 with the remark that one can easily conjecture from this how much princes can trust the French, for his trust of the French is not the same as that of “our city of Florence”; and in III 44 he shows how a prince should ally himself w ith them (compare I 44). The general procedure is clear: “One often obtains w ith impetuosity and audacity w hat one never would have obtained with ordinary modes.” Machiavelli argued in III 9 that impetuosity succeeds in certain times only; now that qualification is dropped and three examples are given of successfully forcing an issue (compare The Prince, chap. 25, end). The first is the Samnites; the second and third are two modern princes whose parallel actions develop the point of the first example for the special attention of a prince.

When the Samnites were being attacked by the army of Rome, Machiavelli begins, and did not have the pow er in their army to face the Romans in the field, they decided to leave their lands in Samnium guarded and to move the entire army into Tuscany, then at truce w ith the Romans. The Samnites wished to see whether, by the presence of their army, they could induce the Tuscans to take up arms again, though this had been refused to their ambassadors. As the Samnites spoke to the Tuscans, especially as they show ed the cause w hy they had been induced to take up arms, they used a notable expression: “They had rebelled because peace is harder for slaves than is war for the free.”31 Machiavelli says they succeeded in their aim “partly w ith persuasion, partly w ith the presence of their army.” The persuasion he supplies would not induce anyone to rebel on behalf of some others’ freedom, unless they, w ith their army, did indeed make peace harder than war for the one being persuaded. 30. S., pp. 328n 192, 334n68. 31. Livy, X 16. 5.

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One should note here, Maehiavelli says, drawing the conclusion for a prince, that when a prince desires to obtain something from someone else, he should it possible not give space to deliberate, and make the other see the necessity of a quick decision—which is when he who is asked sees that by refusing or delaying he w ill raise a “sudden and dangerous anger.” Maehiavelli seems to describe a human version of divine anger, the anger of a man known to be used to getting his own way. This method was well used in our times, he says, by Pope Julius with the French and by monsignore di Fois, captain of the king of France (for whom was the pope captain?) against the Marquis of Mantua. Since the exam¬ ples are cited together, we are invited to find an unusually close parallel or connection. Pope Julius wished to expel the Bentivogli from Bologna, and for this he needed forces from the French and neutrality from the Venetians. Having tried both, and received dubious and shifty replies, he decided to make them join in his intention by not giving them time. He left Rome for Bologna with as many men as he could collect, and sent to the Venetians to tell them they should remain neutral and to the king of France for forces. The Venetians and French were constrained by the small space of time, and seeing that delay or refusal would produce “open indignation” in the pope, they yielded to his wishes. In this case the French were imposed upon by Pope Julius, the champion of impetuosity in chapter 25 of The Prince; in the next, Pope Julius as ally of the Marquis of Mantua was imposed upon by a French captain w ith the serviceable name of di Fois (II 16, 17, 24). Monsignore di Fois, being in Bologna with his army, and having heard of the rebellion in Brescia, had tw o ways to go there to retake it: one through the king’s dominion (the king not specified), which was long and tedious; the other, short w ay w as through the dominion of Mantua. Now the short route went through certain enclosures between swamps and lakes w hich were locked and guarded with fortresses and other means. So di Fois, having decided on the short w ay, and so as not to give the marquis time to deliberate, “w ith one stroke” put his men on that road and notified the marquis to send the keys of that passage. The marquis, surprised by this sudden deci¬ sion, sent the keys—as he would never have done if di Fois had conducted himself more fearfully, because the marquis was in league with the Venetians and w ith the pope, who held his son as hostage. But he yielded, for the “causes” given above, as did the Tuscans to the Samnites in the presence of their army, taking up arms w hich they had refused to take up before. Maehiavelli reduces the two causes of persuasion and presence of an army to the latter, but in his case they reduce to the former; and, as he has just reminded us, he must use persuasion to get men to take up arms. But he can do this if he persuades them that an army is already in existence. He intends to take not the long way through the king’s dominion of intricate scholasticism but the short w ay which must be forced by the impudent demand, “send the keys!” Thus can he stiffen the French and resolve their ambivalence in his favor.

MACHIAVELLIS STRATEGY

II 44 II 45

433

After speaking of both “impetuosity” and “audacity” in the chapter title of III 44, Machiavelli uses neither word in the chapter; we wonder whether his audac¬ ity is the same as impetuosity. In III 45, he indicates that it is not. He discusses what the better policy is in battles, to sustain the impetus of enemies and having sustained it, to charge them; or to attack them with fury from the first.” Since he opts for the former poliey, this chapter has a general sense contrary to the preceding one, where impetuosity from the first was recommended. One battle is sufficient to decide the question, the same one used in III 36 to exemplify the fast-fading ardor of the French. Machiavelli says that the Roman consuls Decius and Fabius, w ith two armies, were confronting the armies of the Samnites and the Tuscans (Livy says it was the “French,” not the Tuscans32), and since they went to battle together, one may note which of the two diverse modes of proceeding followed by the consuls is better. Decius attacked the enemy “w ith all his impetuosity [ogni impeto] and w ith every force of his” w hile fabius only held his ground, judging a slow attack more useful, reserving his impetus to the end w hen the enemy had lost its first ardor for combat and, as w e say, its w ind. Machiavelli omits Livy’s reference to Decius’ youth,33 and thus makes it appear that youthful ardor is a matter of choice for a prudent man. from this standpoint one sees by the event that Fabius succeeded in his design much better than Decius, for Decius became disordered in his first rushes and seeing his band of men turned around, he had to gain with his death the glory he could not achieve by victory, and so in imitation of his father he sacrificed himself for the Roman legions. \\ hen fabius learned this he resolved not to gain less honor living than his colleagues had gained by dying; he pushed on all the forces he had reserved for this necessity and carried away a very happy victory. Hence one sees, the chapter concludes, that Fabius’ procedure is more secure and more imitable. We see that Fabius’ way presupposes ardent allies and enemies, a supply of “French” (111 36) on both sides to make the first rushes anti the necessary sacrifices. I hen fabius can enter the fight with his reserve forces and w in the victory w hile remaining alive, just as in I 60 the Roman republic was praised for making use of the very young and in countless succession (I 20). The French, we have noted, are expelled from this chapter, perhaps because their presence on one side might detract from their universal utility; and no mention is made of the religious character of Decius’ sacrifice, although it was responsible for sanctifying the army (III 36). Machiavelli does note that Decius sacrificed himself in imitation of his father, and we know that this fabius was succeeded by a more famous Fabius who was also a delayer in military strategy; so w e suppose that sustaining at first and saving one’s impetus for the end ean refer to the passing of generations. I his Fabius is w illing to wait for another Fabius, and thus his progeny is not fated to repeat his father’s sacrifice, like Decius. 32. Livy, X 27. 6. 33. Livy, X 28. 6.

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BOOK III

The next ehapter makes explicit the use of familial resemblances which is indicated in III 45: “How it arises that one family in one city keeps for a time the same customs.” The topic invites comparison with the discussion in III 43 of how men in one nation keep almost the same nature for all times, both as to Machiavelli’s understanding of nations and families and as to his use of them in his ow n plan. It appears, he says, that not only does one city have certain modes and institutions (instituti) diverse from another and “procreate” men either harder or more effeminate, but in the same city one sees this difference between one family and another. One finds this to be true in every city and in the city of Rome many examples can be “read” (Machiavelli calls our attention to the source of our evidence); for the Manlii w ere hard and obstinate, the Publicoli benign and lovers of the people, the Appii ambitious and enemies of the plebs, and many other families each had qualities distinguishing them from others. Thus w e are immediately given the political meaning of hard and soft qualities, familiar in classical political science: oligarchical and democratic, respectively. Machiavelli also omits the Fabii from the “many examples” although delaying in battle is a family resemblance obviously suggested in the preceding chapter,34 and although Fabius is made Machiavelli’s model in that chapter and in the chapter succeeding this one. But if a city, though itself harder or softer, consists of families hard and soft, there must be some combining of hard and soft qualities to make a whole; and this work would be suitable for a family w hose quality of delaying action requires the actions, hence the diverse qualities, of others. Such qualities cannot arise solely from “blood,” Machiavelli says, as they would have to change through marriages; so they must necessarily come from the diverse education that families have. It is very important that a boy of tender years begin to hear well or ill of a thing, because it necessarily makes an impression on him and afterw ard regulates his mode of proceeding throughout his life. It seems, then, that education does everything (compare III 22 on Manlius); it takes diverse qualities transmitted through marriages (compare III 26, 28) and sets the young boys in the family mold. Machiavelli’s education, w hich can be read in this book, offers both hard and soft careers for youths, indeed something for everyone, a “diverse education” rather than a “form of education” (III 43). But he now ensures that they w ill hear ill of one family, a family representing a rival education to Machiavelli’s. If education did not produce this result, Machiavelli says that it would be impossible that all the Appii have the same w ill and be agitated by the same passion as Livy notes of many of them. The last example is of an Appius made censor; w hen his colleague gave up his office at the end of eighteen months, as the law' prescribed, Appius did not wish to relinquish his, and said he could 34. W., II 212.

M ACHI A VELLl’s STRATEGY

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435

hold it for five years, according to the first law enacted for the censors. And although much trouble resulted, no solution was ever found by which he would consent to lay it down, despite the fact that he w as opposing the will of the people and the greater part of the Senate. Whoever reads the oration he made against the Tribune Publius Sempronius w ill observe all the Appian insolence, and all the goodness and humanity shown by countless citizens to obey the “laws and auspices” of their country. We can understand w hat Appius represents to Machiavclli if we take his assertion seriously that the first law should always be valid.35 In his case this was doubtless a cloak for illegality, but his assertion is nonetheless that of the legislator, or the law itself, that the same w ill should obtain supported by the same passions against all change apparently required by new circumstances, because any change implies criticism of the first law giver and his law, for example, Machiavelli’s criticism of the law on censors in 1 49. Machiavclli does not take the view that good comes from good, for the pow er of a good beginning to rule the w hole is the foundation of an unchanging law and of a perfect lawgiver (see 1 2), but rather he endorses the judgment of Sallust put in the mouth of Caesar that all evils come from good beginnings (I 46; compare 1 37, end). His education takes account of the qualities of men anti makes allowance for new necessities, and his legislation requires renewal. He discussed the na¬ ture of men in 111 43, and in this chapter he considers human law. In the tradition of classical political science, nature and law share the presupposition of a good beginning, law in imitation of nature. But Machiavclli believes that men’s natures can be modified by education in “nations” containing “families” of men educated in the human qualities: those unchanging qualities of individu¬ als can be coordinated through renewed legislation to perfect men in multitudes, thus to perfect men w ithout changing human nature. The result is law in closer conformity w ith nature as it is in “effectual truth,” together with auspices of the original legislator’s intention, in place of the classical legislator's Appian insol¬

II 47

ence against the people and against the nature of things (see 1 40). In the next chapter, “That a gocxl citizen for love of his fatherland should forget private injuries,” Machiavclli defends himself against the reasonable sus¬ picion that he w ill use his freedom from law to indulge private revenge. The discussion is based on an episode, or vignette, from the life of the earlier Fabius, the one recommended for imitation in III 45. W hen the consul Marcius Rutulus was wounded in battle against the Samnites, and his men therefore put in danger, the Senate judged it necessary to sent! Papirius Cursor as dictator to fill in for him. But since it was necessary for the dictator to be named by Fabius, who was then consul w ith the armies in Tuscany, and since they feared that Fabius, being his enemy, would not wish to name him, the senators sent two ambassadors to ask him to put aside private hatreds and for the public benefit 35. Livy, IX 34. 7.

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nominate Papirius. Fabius did this, moved by love (carita) of country, although “with silence and in many other modes” he signified that this nomination grieved him. Machiavelli ends this short chapter with the sentiment that all those who seek to be considered good citizens should take this as an example. Fabius’ private grudge was that Papirius had prosecuted him for fighting the Samnites against orders and had sought to have him punished capitally, claim¬ ing that such disobedience tended to destroy all discipline in the army (III 36). Machiavelli does not bring up Fabius’ counterclaim on that occasion that he had fought to defend the public and that this prosecution was actually the result of private jealousy by Papirius against Fabius.36 He specifies, as Livy does not, that the Senate sent two ambassadors, reminding us that he had specified, against his source, two ambassadors who had come to prevent Fabius’ signal, unauthorized triumph in the Ciminian forest and had left to give glad tidings of it (II 33). “With silence and in many other modes” Machiavelli signifies to us that Fabius’ private actions were done for the public benefit, w hile he tells us that Fabius overlooked them—though he did not quite forget them!—out of charity for his fatherland. In politics one must make unwelcome alliances; that is, out of charity to one’s enemies one must use them against themselves. Such charity is better protection against indulgence in private hatreds than the law, which gave as much freedom to Papirius’ private jealousy as he could have desired, while blessing it with legality. To be considered a good citizen one must not only obey the laws but also pay attention to the auspices of the legislator in his silences and many other modes. Here is one of the other modes: “When one sees a great error made by an

III 48

enemy, one should believe that there is deceit underneath.” The chapter begins w ith an example featuring Fulvius, a Roman legate left in command of the Roman army in Tuscany, while the consul was at Rome for some ceremonies. Livy says that it w as a dictator who had gone to Rome to retake the auspices and that he had returned in time for the incident to be related, but Machiavelli wanted an eager subordinate taking responsibility from established authority.37 Now the Tuscans, to see if they could catch him in a trap (alia tratta), placed an ambush near the Roman camp and sent some soldiers in shepherd’s dress w ith large flocks who were to come in sight of the Roman army. So disguised, they approached the very works of the camp, at which the legate, marveling at their presumption since it did not appear reasonable to him, acted to discover their fraud; Livy says he found their speech, their carriage, and their complexion too refined for shepherds.38 So the plan of the Tuscans w as ruined. It resembles the success36. Livy, VIII 31. 37. Livy, X 4. 3. Walker puts this on his list of “Machiavelli’s Mistakes” (II 311-312) which total twenty-three. We have seen that every one of these “mistakes,” and many, many more that Walker has missed, was intentional, and intended to conceal a deceit. Walker’s comment is a small master¬ piece of misplaced modesty: “I shall be quite content if my own notes arc as accurate as the text on which I am commenting” (II 312). 38. Livy, X 4. 9-10.

MACHI A VELLl’s STRATEGY

III 48

43 7

ful fraud using shepherds carried out by the Samnites against the Romans (III 40), but it failed through the error of being presumptuous while purporting to be humble. Whoever heard of refined shepherds? It w as unreasonable or against the proportion of things to suppose they were other than soldiers in shepherd’s dress. Yet the example is inapt because the great error did not hide the deceit but revealed it; only Machiavelli’s error was an intentional deceit. Machiavelli restates the chapter title w ith vehement exaggeration, no doubt influenced by the discovery of the Roman legate. He asserts that a captain should not put faith in an error evidently seen to be made by the enemy, for there will always be a fraud underneath, as it is not reasonable that men be so incautious. But often the desire to conquer blinds the spirits of men w ho do not see but what appears to be done for them. Now we are presented w ith an example w hich is not merely inapt but obviously shows the negative of the maxim it is brought forward to illustrate. After the French had conquered the Romans, and came to Rome to find the doors open and unguarded, they stopped outside all day and night without entering, fearing some fraud, as they could not believe the Romans w ould have such cow ardice and lack of counsel as to abandon their fatherland. The French, w e see, though conquering, could not believe that Rome was left open for them, and so they committed the great error of not exploiting their victory. So far from rash credulity were they that they fell victim to cautious credulity, their spirits blinded by the (restated) maxim of this chapter because they believed for certain, rather than provisionally as¬ sumed, that the Romans would not make a great error w ithout a hidden deceit. If the Roman abandonment of their fatherland stands for what the Christians have done, the French hesitation, in its cow ardice and lack of counsel, repre¬ sents the conduct of the Christians’ enemies. The French do not realize that the Christians had to abandon their fatherland, however seemingly unreasonable. Machiavelli had used this incident fifty-two chapters earlier, in II 29, to illus¬ trate the statement that “fortune blinds the spirits of men.” Belief in fortune or Providence is the consequence of the human desire to conquer—to control the unknow n future which is the obstacle to conquest. While seeming to warn solely against hopeful incaution, Machiavelli also warns covertly against fearful timidity; for his more forward troops need to be restrained and his wiser readers need to be encouraged. He does this by means of an example to illustrate an evident error, w hich is itself an evident error, unless w e are to believe that some deceit lies hidden underneath. It appears that this obvious instance of Machiavelli’s practicing what he preaches has been noticed in print by only one commentator.39 To understand Machiavelli’s very many evident errors in this work and in his others, one must combine the caution of believing that an evident error masks a deceit w ith the boldness of believing w hat one sees. The third example is another instance of Florentine credulity (see III 43) 39. S., p. 35; and Strauss, “Niccolo Machiavelli,” in History of Political Philosophy, p. 280.

438 III 48

BOOK III

regarding a double agent. When in 1508 the Florentines were eneamped before Pisa, a Pisan eitizen, Alfonso del Mutolo, found himself a prisoner of the Florentines, and promised that if he were freed, he would open a gate of Pisa to the Florentine army. He was freed; then to accomplish the affair, he came many times to meet with the Florentine legates, and he came not secretly but openly and accompanied by Pisans whom he left to one side while speaking to the Florentines. Thus one could have conjectured his double intent (animo doppio) because it was not reasonable if his conduct w as “faithful” (to the Florentines, not to the Pisans!) that he would have dealt so openly. But the desire of the Florentines to have Pisa so blinded them that, going to the appointed gate, they left many of their leaders and soldiers there, to their dishonor, because of the double-dealing (tradimento doppio) of the said Alfonso. Alfonso’s “evident error” which should have alerted the Florentines was to deal openly w ith them, but since this error was unintended, and unreasonable for his part, the example is once again inapt. If Alfonso had acted reasonably, that is, according to the maxim that promises made under duress do not hold (III 42), the Florentines would have had to infer his treachery from that maxim rather than from his dishonest open dealing. The Pisans, for their part, could have inferred Alfonso’s fidelity from his open dealings with the enemy, for visible treachery must reasonably be construed as deliberate patriotism. Machiavelli makes us question our association of secret dealing with treachery so that he can go after outside aid in the form of defectors from the enemy. Machiavelli’s double-dealing, like Alfonso’s, presupposes the w illingness of or¬

Ill 49

dinary honest men to abandon ordinary honesty in w ar; this is w hy the chapters from III 42 on alternate roughly between domestic and foreign subjects.40 We know that Machiavelli’s double-dealing w ill be “faithful,” unlike Alfonso’s, be¬ cause we do not let him go free before he has executed his promise. We keep a hold on him through the undisguisable consequences of his advice, w hether for more security and human freedom or not. Despite the appearance of abrupt termination, we can be confident that the last chapter in the book was intended to be the last from the effort of the commentator mentioned above, w ho was the first to take note in print that the number of chapters in the Discourses is the same as the number of books in Livy’s history. As this coincidence could hardly be accidental, especially in view' of many other numerological discoveries that have been made, we shall assume that Machiavelli intended to finish his work with emphasis on the need for constant renew al of a republic:41 “A republic, if it wishes to keep itself free, has need of new7 provisions [“foresights,” provvedimenti] every day; and for what 40. S., p. 315n38. 41. S., pp. 48^49, 88-89. Clough’s objection to this conclusion requires that NM intended his intention to be always obvious and never “lost to sight” by anyone; and Clough’s evidence that the Discourses is unfinished is also based on this premise (Cecil H. Clough, introduction to the 1975 edition of Walker, I xxviii).

M ACHI A VELLl’s STRATEGY

II 49

439

merits Quintus Fabius was called Maximus.” The provision for which Fabius was called Maximus, we shall see, only Machiavelli can supply, because it lies beyond the horizon of Machiavellian statesmen in the vulgar sense. Of necessity, “as elsew here was said,” the chapter begins, great accidents arise in a city “every day” that require a doctor (medico), and according as they are more important, one must find a w iser doctor. The reference is to I 49, also on the problem of keeping a republic free, w here Machiavelli says at the end that “every day” arise new causes for which one must make new orders in favor of free life.42 But there he asserts that Rome w as “ordered of itself and by so many prudent men”; he does not speak of the need for a doctor, for all w e know from outside Rome, giving daily attention in constant consultation. But w e have been taught in Book III to see the need for Machiavelli in the operation of Machiavellian principles. Yet the “strange and unhoped for” accidents he now’ mentions seem to have been dealt w ith adequately from w ithin Rome; they are three eases requiring punishment. Once it appeared that all the Roman women had conspired against their husbands to kill them: so many w ere found to have poisoned them, and so many to have prepared the poison to poison them. We will identify these women with those in III 26, and remark that Livy does not make a distinction between poisoners anti preparers of poison.43 Livy does say, and Machiavelli does not, that the conspiracy was discovered by Fabius. Then there was a conspiracy of the Bacchanals, discovered at the time of the Macedonian w ar, in w hich many thousands of men and women w ere involved. It would have been “dangerous for that city” if it had not been discovered or indeed if the Romans had not been accustomed to punish multitudes of “errants.” In the context of this conspiracy Livy also mentions the uncovering of a conspiracy of shepherds.44 Machiavelli now digresses on the excellence of Roman punishments: if one had not seen the greatness of this republic and the pow er of its executions by countless other signs, one would see them by the qualities of the punishment imposed on whoever errs. It did not hesitate “to have killed by the way of justice” an entire legion at once and a city, and to banish eight or ten thousand men (compare I 4) under such extraordinary conditions that they could not be observed by one only, much less by many. Such was the case with the soldiers who had fought unsuccessfully at Cannae: they were banished to Sicily, they were not allowed to lodge in the city (in terra), and they had to eat standing up. Livy mentions only the first of these three humiliating conditions.45 But ot all other executions, Machiavelli continues, ignoring the punishment of captains (I

42. 43. cf. D. 44. 45.

On “every day,” see S., p. 315n36. Livy, VIII 18. 14. See I F. V 1 on the corruption in Rome introduced by philosophers; and Ill 6, where conspiracies of poisoners are said to be omitted. Livy, XXXIX 41. 6. Livy, XXVII 25. 7.

440 III 49

BOOK III

31), the decimation of armies was terrible, where by chance, out of the whole army, one of ten was killed. Nor could one find a more frightening way to punish a multitude than this one. For when a multitude errs, and there is no ascertainable author, all cannot be punished for this would be too many (con¬ trary to w hat w as implied above); and if part is punished and part unpunished, it would cause wrong to the punished, and the unpunished would have the desire (animo) to err another time. But when one tenth is killed by chance, and all merit it, then he who is punished grieves for his chance and he who is not fears lest another time he be touched, and is careful not to err. Machiavelli now7 omits the wrong to those punished since it will not be felt; they w ill only bemoan their fate. So, he says, the poisoners and the Bacchanals w ere punished as their sins deserved. We did not know they had “sinned” and according to Livy, they were killed in large numbers, not decimated. For all his praise of decimation, Machiavelli does not supply an example of it. Machiavelli now makes a distinction, and for the rest of the chapter discourses on Fabius. He says that although these sicknesses produce bad effects in a republic, they are not fatal because there is almost alw ays time to correct them, whereas there is no time “in those that regard the state” {stato), w hich if not corrected by someone prudent (uno prudente), ruin the city. Machiavelli goes on to describe a certain electoral manipulation done by Fabius in anticipation, one might say, of the need for a punishment; “someone prudent” sees ahead, as does the doctor, and does not make an “execution.” But “sicknesses that regard the state” must mean sicknesses that do not regard any particular state, that regard the state of the political scientist, as it can spiracies were not “dangerous for that city,” provision w as for the “new7 men” of w hom the liberality with w hich the Romans used

hardly be maintained that large con¬ that is, for Rome in particular. Fabius’ so many w ere born in Rome through to give citizenship {civilita) to foreign¬

ers. These new' men began to have such a share in the suffrage that the govern¬ ment began to change and to depart from the things and men w ith w hich it w as accustomed to operate. Recognizing this, Quintus Fabius, who w as censor, put all these new' men, on whom the disorder depended, under four tribes so that they, shut into such small spaces, could not corrupt all Rome. This thing was well understood by Fabius, and he arranged a fitting remedy w ithout a change {sanza alterazione)\ it was so w ell received by the citizenry {civilita) that he deserved to be called Maximus. Thus the book ends w ith a typical oligarchical contrivance of seemingly minor importance, although Machiavelli translates Livy’s “market crowd” into “new men,” a less pointedly antidemocratic description.46 But citizenship for the new' men w as the consequence of the Roman republic’s imperialism, and “inconveni¬ ence” expressly accepted in 16 as necessary to that imperialism. It was therefore the consequence of the policy by which Rome destroyed the freedom of her 46. Livy, IX 46. 14.

M ACHI A VELLl’s STRATEGY

III 49

441

neighbors and conquered the world (II 2, 4, 19). Although a Roman is Machiavelli’s model of prudence, the recommended remedy pertains to the fundamental order of Rome, which w as the source of its fundamental ill: the open cosmopolitanism of a disorderly multitude, which tolerated or encouraged the spread of modern corruption. Fabius attempted to order the multitude by dividing the new men into four tribes; obviously he did not succeed in curing the fundamental sickness. Machiavelli believes that he can, and he suggests— though to be sure no more than suggests—his manner of ordering the multitude. This story about Fabius is taken from the very end of Livy’s Book IX; so the Discourses on the First Ten Books of Livy ends, so to speak, w ith a decimation of Livy’s history, a decimation by w hich the chanciness of Rome’s orders has been removed. For a multitude of men out of w hich chance has made its selection, and thus removed itself, is ready for Machiavelli’s ordering. In Machiavelli’s ordering the new men who corrupted Rome must be given places in four tribes so that they w ill no longer be dangerous for the state. These four tribes, recruits from the enemy (III 48), have been identified in the chapter as preparers of poison, poisoners, Bacchic revelers, anti soldiers defeated at Rome’s greatest defeat. The renew al of orders through new provisions depends on the ordering of new men to prevent another defeat of Rome and thus to secure a perpetual republic, or federation, civilization, or world. I le w ho orders the human mul¬ titude in his book and by his advice makes himself the head of this enterprise would deservedly47 be called Maximus. Massimo is the last word in the Dis¬ courses. Io (“I”) was the first. 47. See D. Ill 34, and NM’s description in the Dedicatory letter of his addressees as those w ho deserve to be princes.

INDEX Abstraction, 129, 202 Accident, 54, 202-204, 25 3, 282, 336-337, 399-400, 418, 438; anticipation of, 1 10-1 16; appearance of prince as, 139-140; avoidable, 56, 124-125; and creation of Decemvirate, 126-130; discovery of, 137; extraordinary, 234; fabricated, 360-362; and false opinion, 257; fortuitous, 291; great or grave, 164-166; hidden cause of, 41; and intention, 45; and judgment, 260; and liberty, 79, 82-83; mind¬ less, 10; necessity as apparent, 33; new, 246247, 353; and order, 141,416; and perfection, 34, 39—40; pleasure in, 27; and prudence, 300-302, 319, 381; rape as, 314-315, 391392; refuge in, 269; responsibility for, 148, 370, 424; use of, 188; of Virginia, 135 Accusation, 53, 57-62, 70, 303, 327-328, 343, 346, 383, 395-396, 400; against the people, 168-170; of ambition, 150; and calumny, 47, 182-183; by Cato Priscus, 105-106; discour¬ agement of, 408; anti election, 145; of faith¬ lessness, 428; law on, 138-139; by Philip of Macedon, 201; of the Scipios, 301; under tor¬ ture, 330; in Venice, 149; withdrawal of, 70 Achaeans, 199 Acquisition, 248-251, 253, 256-257, 283, 387388; as conquest, 190; of empire by Rome, 189-206; of force by fraud, 226; of good, 417; government of, 393-394; of honor anil prop¬ erty, 120-122; limits to, 52; maintenance of, 300; necessity of, 430; politics of, 239; promo¬ tion of, 401; of reputation, 396; and selfsufficiency, 268; through surrender, 292; of world, 90, 184-185, 259 Acquisitiveness, 238 Administration, 364, 368 Advice, 32, 38-39, 271, 365-366, 396, 404, 407, 41 1-416, 425^126, 437; atrocious, 136; bad, 261; of Machiavelli, 41 3, 441; not to resist evil w ith evil, 387; of old man, 265; of Pericles, 218-219; public and private, 39, 181; as sinew of w ar, 219; to tyrant, 127; unnecessary, 308; and whoring, 392; womanly, 71 Aeneas, 32, 63, 2 1 3; as builder, 30

443

Aequi, 370-371 Aequi Quinctius, 363-364 Aetolia, 199, 201, 328 Africa, 212-214, 291, 348, 352-353, 389 Agathocles, 222-223, 226, 340, 345n58 Agis IV, King, 66 Agrarian law, 120-122, 142, 345, 386-388 Agrippa, Furius, 363-364 Agrippa Mcnenius, 41-42, 44 Alba, 92-93, 198-199 Alcibiades, 365-368 Alexamenus, 328, 334 Alexander of Kpirus, 288 Alexander the Great, 29, 31-32, 90, 99, 171, 216-219, 276-281, 288, 325; death of, 360; anil Mount Mhos, 32, 423n20; prudence of, 185; w arfare of, 210-211 Alexander VI, Pope, 268, 397 Alexandria, 29, 32 Alliance, 191, 214, 232 Alfonso, Duke, 223, 333 Alps, 94, 429 Ambition, 44, 59-60; and common good, 69; concealed, 142-143; excused, 47^8; mainte¬ nance of, 162; as necessity of human nature, 120-121; private, 184 Amida, 274 Ancus Marcius, 89, 312 Anger, 55, 57, 280, 366, 432 Anglo, Sidney, 78n22 Animals, 79-81, 83, 425; killing of, 77, 195, 235; and men, 35-36, 50. See also under names of specific animals Antaeus, King, 222, 306 Anticipation, 107, 109, 152-155, 229-230, 316-319, 400, 405; of accidents, 110-111, 116; of bad faith, 93; and Christianity, 185, 196; of conspiracy, 309; by Fabius, 440; by Hannibal, 214-215; by Machiavelli, 10, 71n5, 186, 378-379; and prudence, 354-355 Antiochus, 222-224, 367, 402 Antiquity, 26-28, 185-189, 287. See also Classi¬ cal political philosophy; Classical political sci¬ ence; Writers, ancient

444 Antony, Mark, 154, 246 Anzio, 122, 130n35, 253 Apollo, 160, 208-209, 306, 385-388, 392, 397398 Apology: of Machiavelli, 341; of Socrates, 311n12, 386 Appius Claudius (consul), 372-374, 434-435 Appius Claudius (decemvir), 103, 137-138, 307, 391, 434-435; arrogance of, 228; errors of, 127-1 32; tyranny of, 135 Appius Claudius Caecus, 434-435 Appius Claudius Crassus, 353-355, 406, 408, 434-335 Aquilonia, 78 Aquinas, Saint Thomas, 31n6 Aratus of Sicyon, 291-293, 317 Ardea, 390-393 Arezzo, 34, 123-125, 165-166, 262-264, 343, 394 Aristeides, 176-177 Aristocracy, 56, 86 Aristotimus, 327 Aristotle, 32, 35, 109, 202-203; critic of, 116; Nicotnachean Ethics, 41 n 3 0, 1 OOn 8, 151, 175n54, 187; On Philosophy, 38n21; Poli¬ tics, 30n4, 31n6, 10, 38n21, 41n29, 43, 50, 68nl1, 69n13, 100n8, 117nl0, 133n40, 148nl4, 170n48, I71n50, 201n20, 217n 15, 244n20, 271n15, 281nlO, 318, 380, 391-392; Rhetoric, 13 3n41 Armenia, 421-422 Army: Christian, 134, 237-238; modern, 232 — 247 Arrabiati, 159 Arrogance, 140, 145, 231-232 Arruns, 57-58, 200, 21 1 Art, 196-197, 213, 394, 415, 420; clarity of, 186-187; and nature, 199; progress in, 238, 241 Artaxerxes, King, 289 Artillery, 232-243, 267 Asia, 246n25, 274, 288-289 Assertiveness, human, 51, 96, 342 Assyria, 187 Athens, 40, 127, 173, 175-177, 193-194, 198, 218-219, 270-271, 340, 427; conspiracy in, 335; duke of, 342-343; expansion of, 200-202; ingratitude of, 102-104; in Sicilian expedi¬ tion, 158, 222, 296, 319, 365-367; site of, 29 Attalus, 280-281 Augustine, Saint, 41n32, 63, 190n2, 260nl Augustus. See Octavian Austria, 249-250 Authority, 57-58, 1 14-1 17, 310-31 1, 316-317, 340, 351-353, 367, 391, 399-400, 413, 436; absolute, 118, 120; of ancients, 186; in build¬

INDEX

ing of cities, 28-29; divine, 111, 343; of fathers, 417; and innovation, 413; of Machiavelli, 65; new, 99; and opinions, 259; perfection of, 64; public and private, 55; qual¬ ity of, 46; and reason, 41, 222; of Romans, 98, 243-247, 270; shared, 63, 323, 363-364; of Sicinius, 44; of I'acitus, 373; unnamed, 327; womanly, 71 Authorization, 295, 412 Auxiliaries, 251, 259-260 Averroists, 202-203

Bacchanals, 439^441 Bacon, Francis, 185, 203n26, 216nl3 Badaloni, Nicola, 282nl2 Baglioni, Giovampagalo, 101, 111, 361 Bajazet II, 89, 322 Balia, 302 Banquet, 171, 280, 340 Baron, Hans, 79nl Bashaws (of Turkey), 413 Beauty, 27, 72, 83, 217, 222, 423; of irony, 188; and truth, 280-281; and utility, 11-12, 134, 270; womanly, 391 Beginnings, 111-112, 299-305, 344, 386, 393, 409-411, 415^116, 420, 435; of expansion, 226; free or servile, 147-148; good and bad, 141-143, 179; of modernity, 219-232; native and foreign, 28-29; natural, 227; perfect, 50; return to, 276, 284; of Rome, 28 Belanti, Iulio, 337 Belanti, Luzio, 321, 337 Benardete, Seth, 328n33 Benefit: common, 8, 26, 298, 321, 331, 386, 396, 414; public, 410, 435 Bentivogli, 432 Bernabo, Messer, 226 Bertelli, Sergio, 51n49, 245n23, 267nl4, 337n45 Bible, 128, 282, 344, 380, 392; alternative to, 222, 317; beginnings in, 203-204, 299; Machiavelli’s instructions on reading, 398401; as Machiavelli’s source, 99, 11 On 16, 391-392, 424; man’s share of kingdom in, 88; original crime of, 63; severity of, 385 Biondo, Flavio, 394 BhijLT34. 136 (gbndness, 40, 332-333, 396, 416-417, 437-T38; '^TronTTbrtune, 282 -2 8i^-4fi-mmdA 345u— 346: of prejudice, 412 —413^of Samnites, 422; pf spirit, 282-285, 287-*"and wickectnrts, 323 Blood, 56, 84, 156, 200, 251, 341, 373-374, 393, 410; age and, 178-180; arms and, 121; author¬ ity of, 149; and ferocity, 195; injuries to, 320; noble, 293; and quality, 434; revolutions

INDEX

Blood (cotit.) without shedding of, 343-345, 358; thirst for, 163; and virtue, 190 Blunder. See Error Body, 236-238, 281 n 10, 286-287, 355; human being as, 81; mixed, 204-205, 222n5, 299303, 391; multitude as, 245; and spirit, 345; of troops, 403; unity in, 365; whole, 251 Bohemian, 324 Bologna, 268, 432 Booty, 100-101, 209, 357, 371, 407, 418 Borgia, Cesare, 69nl2, 124, 268, 313, 397-398 Brain, 303, 334; confusion of, 33?T rarity of, 162-164. See also Mind Breakfast, 332-333 Brescia, 240, 270, 432 Brutus, Lucius Junius, 100, 173, 305-312, 315-317, 385, 391; sons of, 80-81, 83, 95, 235, 301, 309-314, 325, 344 Brutus, Marcus Junius, 68, 321, 336, 370-371 Buondelmonti, Zanobi, 21 Caesar, Julius, 79, lOOnll, 161, 347, 359, 387 — 388, 435; as ambitious man, 141-143; blame of, 85, 308; and Caesarism, 154-155; conspir¬ acy against, 321, 336, 339-340; and corrup¬ tion, 87, 105-106; descendants of, 83; as first tyrant, 121; limitations of, 164; refusal to lie king, 119, 173; rise of, 112-113, 175, 178179; soul of, 133n39; writers’ praise of, 67-69 Cain, 263 Callicles, 307 Callipus, 343 Calumny, 57-62, 97; and accusation, 47, 182 ^ CarmUus, 261-263, 361, 390, 400-403, 408; in exile, 106, 282nl3, 284, 289, 384-387, 398, 401, 414; humanity of, 374-375, 378, 384386; and Machiavelli, 345-347; prudence of, 358, 399; tithe of, 164-165; use of religion by, 73, 75; virtue of, 58, 285. 300--101. 303. 384. 401-402; vow of, 160-161, 208, 385-386, 398 Campanians, 21 3-215, 220-221, 227, 252, 418 Cannae, 108, 144, 157, 243, 277, 286-287, 359, 402, 410, 418, 425, 439 Capitol, 58, 62, 75-76, 97, 279, 283-285, 291 Captain, 107, 293-294, 359, 372; authority of, 149; free commission of, 293-296; foundercaptain, 299, 364; and giving spirit, 358-363; meritorious, 104-105; necessity for, 218-219, 223, 421 —423; punishment of, 107 Capua, 47, 144-145; delights of, 250-251; en¬ treaty of, 253-256, 317; Roman conspiracy against, 275, 342; siege of, 270, 291; sur¬ render of, 214-215, 219, 252, 272n20, 292; weakness of, 220-221 Caracalla, Antoninus, 330-331, 335

445 Carli, Plinio, 25n 1 Carmignuola, Francesco Bussone, 246-247, 259, 265 Carthage, 158, 214-215, 223-224, 230, 277279, 291, 340, 348, 353n72, 367, 404-405, 425. See also New Carthage Cassius Longinus, Caius, 32 1, 370 Castello, Niccolo da, 267 Castruccio Castracani, 2 15, 223-224 Caterina, Madonna, 338-339 Catiline, 68, 141, 340-341 Cato the Elder (Cato Priscus), 105-106, 303 Cato the Younger, 303 Caudine Forks, 265, 286, 427; anil cliffs, 424425 Cavalry, 232-236, 242-250, 258, 328, 361, 371. See also 1 lorse Cecil, I/>rd, 306n9 Celio, 103 Censors, 148-149 Ceres, 321 Chalxxl, Federico, 79nl Character, 376-377 Charity, 374-375, 436 Charles VII, king of France, 165, 270. 429 Charon, 336 Chastity, 1 35, 375, 391-392 Chicken-men, 77-78, 361, 406 Chiusi, 57, 279, 281n9 Choice, 30-32, 123, 140, 231-232 Christ, 27, 303-304; soul of, 133 Christianity, 60, 166, 202-206, 311, 341, 351, 368, 387, 395; as conspiracy against fatherland, 339; control of, 182-185; doctrine of creation of, 35-36; ills attributable to, 27; and Judaism, 89, 215; Machiavelli’s attack on. 194-196, 237-238; as model, 145, 298; and Platonic love, 281; as plelieian movement, 131; and politics, 33, 302-305; and repen¬ tance, 166; world changed by, 124-125 Cicero Tullius, 112, 155, 159, 172n51 \ Brutus, 289n23; l)e amicitia, 44; De divinatione, 73nl(), 165n43; l)e officiis, 103, 177; De republica, 31n6, 72n8; Pbillipics, 154 Cimbri, 211, 224, 419 Ciminian forest, 407-408, 412, 436; and gorges, 294 Cincinnatus, Lucius Quintius, 386-389, 396, 406-407 Claims, private, 184 Classical political philosophy, 286, 324, 375 — 376, 401, 415, 417 Classical political science, 33, 181-184, 435; on choice of site, 31 -32; and common good, 69; and corruption, 97; on human beings, 38, 51; and moral virtue, 179-180; and the people,

446 Classical political science (cont.) 152-155; on the regime, 34-35, 207, 302-303, 434; and tyranny, 177, 311 Clearchus, 81 Cleomenes 111, King, 63, 66, 87, 340 Clitus, 171 Cloak, 1 14, 423, 435 Clough, Cecil H., 438n41 Codefa, 269 Coldness, 258-259 Collatinus, 103, 315-316 Colonies, 29, 208-209, 215, 249, 387, 404 Comfort, false, 195 Commentary', 7, 12 Commentator, 32, 437-438; embarrassed, 248n3; imperturbable, 125; silent, 254 Commerce, 224. See also 1'rade Commodus, 330-331, 334-335, 341 Common benefit. See Benefit, common Common good, 262-263, 292, 309, 329, 360, 366, 408; and ambition, 69, 356; in the build¬ ing of cities, 29, 32, 298; cruelty for, 174; devotion to, 410^411; in expansion, 193-194; love of, 172, 354-355, 358, 383; new standard for, 64-65; of a sect, 205; and tyranny, 140, 308-309 Communication, indirect, 183, 291 Companionship, 63, 363, 374; and subjection, 200, 249 Compassion. See Intelligence, airy Confederations, 175 Conciliarism, 305 Confession, 301, 304 Conquest: as acquisition, 190, 238; of the world, 259-260, 276, 416, 440 Conscience, 101, 111, 161, 230-232, 322, 324327, 334, 336-337 Consent, 1 15, 310, 323, 343 Conspiracy, 37, 47, 1 1 1-1 1 3, 317-343, 354, 391, 439^440; anticipation of, 309; and change of government, 8; of faithlessness, 289; impediments to, 291; indirect, 227; of republics, 196; suppression of, 252; and writ¬ ing, 340-341, 385 Constantine, Emperor, 398 Constitution, 48, 116, 150, 300, 302, 315, 396 Contemplation, 308, 385, 402 Contrivance, 63-64, 290 Convention, 102, 324, 417 Conversation, 161-162, 393 Coppola, Jacopo, 323 Corey ra, 194 Corinth, 317 Coriolanus, 53-55, 57-58, 103, 358-359, 395 Corruption, 83-88, 270, 299-304, 439^441; and cycle of regimes, 40^41, 272, 308, 31 1; by due degrees, 147; defined, 174; education in,

INDEX

136; and gold, 215-219; of judgment, 187 — 188; manipulation of, 296; responsibility of Rome for, 259; source of, 160, 209, 293; and virtue, 96; of youth, 133 Cosmopolitanism, 198, 282-283, 441 Counsel. See Advice Crassus, Marcus Licinius Dives, 246, 356-357 Creation, 115, 406, 411; Christian doctrine of, 35-36; of government, 149; great, 162; grounds of Machiavelli’s, 421; of slaves, 360; of tribunes, 42, 44 Creativity, 7-8, 185 Crime, 69, 318, 343 Croce, Benedetto, 323 Croesus, 217, 222 Crown, 290-293, 410 Crucifixion, 341 Cruelty, 96, 315, 341, 376-379, 382-383, 405; condemned, 136; of Hannibal, 410; and hu¬ manity, 145; of multitude, 174; of Philip, 281; and piety, 373-374, 395, 426-427; recom¬ mended, 81, 100; of war, 211 Cumming, Robert D., 35n9 Curiatii, Alban, 92, 96 Cyaxares, King, 226 Cycle of civilizations, 86-87, 272-273, 286; Machiavelli and Polybius on, 38-39 Cycle of regimes, 86-87, 272, 286; and human happiness, 166; Machiavelli and Polybius on, 35-41, 79n2, 181-182, 206; or states, 41; as unimproved state of human affairs, 33, 97, 187-189, 297-298, 308, 311. See also Regime Cypselus, 333n40 Cyrus, King, 226, 375, 421^422, 425; humanity of, 382 Daimonion, 386 Danger, 232, 308; of death, 241; of leadership, 242; of tyranny, 341; of writing, 329-330, 340 Dante, 70, 158-159, 394; monarch of, 156; II Convivio, 156, 222n5; De monarcbia, 156, 166n45, 222n5; Paradiso, 26n2; Purgatorio, 72 Darius, 327-328 Darius I, King, 289 Darius III, King, 217 Dates, 12, 34 David, King, 88-89, 99-100, 380 Daylight, broad, 9-10 Deceit. See Fraud Decemvirate, 1 10-139, 301, 373; creation of, 126-129; excess against Virginia of, 314, 391; and hidden government, 254, 383; loss of lib¬ erty under, 168 Deception. See Fraud Decimation, 439-441 Decius Mus the Elder, 233-234

INDEX

Decius Mus the Younger, 433 Deeds, 181-185, 203, 230 Defense, 253, 401, 406-408; and auxiliaries, 252; of a city, 398; common, 276; of a father, 379-380; and Germany, 249-250; of life anti property, 323; and offense, 239-243; of this world, 298, 31 1, 355. See also Self-defense Degrees, 132, 147 Deinocrates, 32 Deliberation, 229-232, 262, 386-387; preven¬ tion of, 432; private, 339; public, 266; on safety of country, 426; and truth, 257 Delight, 250, 252, 306, 414 Demetrius I, King, 175 Democracy, 37; and aristocracy, 56; and oligar¬ chy, 43, 434, 440 Denmark, 229 Depopulation, 196 Descent, 143, 149 Design. See Intention Devotion, 74; of Brutus, 306; to common good, 410; to fatherland, 196, 298; to French, 278; to liberty, 47; to philosophy, 311 Dido, 213 Dignity, 157, 262, 276, 404 Dimmo (Dymnus), 325 Diocles, 335 Diodorus Siculus, 204 Dion, 83, 343 Dione, 343 Dionysius, 321 Disposition, human, 1 32, 328 Disputation, 221-225, 239, 267 Doctor, 299, 439. See also Sickness Dominic, Saint, 303-304 Duty, 188, 414-315 Earth, 222, 239; kissing of, 306-308, 385 East, 83, 207, 378, 413. See also Orient Economy, 196-197, 345n56 Education, 393, 399-400; ancient and modern, 194, 403, 434-435; in corruption, 136; form of, 428-430; hunting as, 421—323; and laws, 43; philosophic, 307-308; Tuscan, 294-295 Effeminacy, 52, 89, 91, 195, 351, 434. See also Women Egeria (the Nymph), 71 Egypt, 31-32, 170, 175, 187, 222, 413 Election, 95; and accusation, 183; as ascent, 120; and authorization, 115-116, 293-295; as choice and promotion, 140; and creation, 7, 115; as descent, 143; and electioneering, 132, 408—309; and punishment, 145, 279, 440; and responsibility, 149, 173 Elephants, 242, 246, 362, 389 Encouragement, 319 Ends and means, 292, 306n9, 327

447 England, 91, 224n7, 256 Enlightenment, 185 Envy, 8-9, 58-59, 153, 186, 398-301 Epaminondas, 52, 84, 91, 359-360, 369-370, 420 Epicharis, 329 Epicureanism, 51. See also Lucretius Epirus, 288, 327-328 Equality, 49, 160-164, 200, 233-234, 243, 360, 385; civil, 37 Eros, 158 Error, 92-94, 131, 144n7, 265, 283, 295, 316, 439; of Italy, 351; of Machiavelli, 10, 21, 327n 32, 38()n31, 436—338; in name, 47n41; shadow of, 102-103 Eternity, 151-152; of memory, 101, 104n6, 364; of world, 124, 187, 202-203 Eton, playing fields of, 421 Etruscans, 192-193, 199-202, 271-273; lan¬ guage of, 294; religion of, 73, 192n6 Evil, 302-304, 413, 417-318; intended, 341; Machiavelli as teacher of, 8; resistance of evil w ith, 387; submission to, 310-311 Exaggeration, 104, 249, 437 Exaltation, 248 Execution, 168, 234, 301-304, 379-382, 393, 395, 405; business of, 10; and choice, 230232; commanded by God, 400; of con¬ spiracies, 319-323, 325-328, 330-339, 341; by executors, 298; of Machiavelli, 438—340; memorable, 309-31 3, 316; mere, 413; missed opportunity for, 12, 101, 111; and oppressed individual, 55; ultimate, 149; unnecessary, 417n8 Exile, 287-290, 328, 361; of Camillus, 398, 401-402; of Coriolanus, 358; and election, 293- 294; perpetual, 338; as punishment, 413-314 Expansion, 193-197, 199-202, 249-250, 25 3254; beginnings of, 226; of Christianity, 237; of empire, 181; and judging, 261 Eabii, the three, 279-281, 300-301 Eabius Ambustus, Marcus, 108 Eabius Maximus Cunctator, 348-352, 401,424; prudence of, 157-159, 351; and Tarentum, 270 Eabius Maximus Rullianus, Quintus, 407, 411, 433—336; disobedience by, 108, 293-295, 415-316; w hy called Maximus, 4 3 8 —341 Eabius Vibulanus, Marcus, 118-120, 292-295 Fabius Vibulanus, Quintus (consul), 118-120, 294- 295 Eabius Vibulanus, Quintus (decemvir), 133-134 Fabricius, C. Luscinus, 375 Fabrizio, 54n53 Facility, 133-134

448 Faculties, 390 Faith, 175-176 Falisci, 374-376 Family, 434-435 Father, 58, 71, 148, 265, 315, 335, 337, 345, 406; anguish of, 80n4; authority of, 417; Bajazet as, 322; and daughter, 305-307, 313; defense of, 379-380; imitation of, 433; in¬ gratitude to, 175; as judge, 309; lack of, 390; of Manlius Torquatus, 408-411; nameless, 425—426; and patrimony, 374; time as, 41. See also Patrimony Fatherland, 67, 70, 81, 309-312, 316, 336, 349, 399-400, 435-437; abandonment of, 410; all the world as, 3 1 1, 355; celestial and terres¬ trial, 184-185; and common good, 64-65; conspiracy against, 339-342; defense of, 94, 413-414; forgotten, 252; government of, 393-394; and ignominy, 425—427; liberation of, 305-306, 321, 327, recovery of, 284; rev¬ erence to, 379-380; ruin of, 318; seizure of, 388; anti soul, 196, 298; and spirits of sol¬ diers, 251; succor of, 278-279. See also Patrio¬ tism Fear, 37-38, 55, 377; of ambition, 142; burden of, 138; common, 404; of force, 228-229; hope in, 365; of invisible spirits, 332-333; management of, 272; in multitude, 139-177; private, 184; renew al of, 297, 301-304 Feathers, 78, 290 Ferdinand I, King (of Naples), 222-224 Ferdinand of Aragon, 105, 323 Ferocity, 70, 79, 103, 194-196, 419, 429; of French, 415; of spirit, 213; of youth, 179-180 Ferrante, Gonsalvo, 105n9 Ferrara, 333, 354 Fiction, 226, 362-363, 401 Fidenates, 362-363 Fiesole. 29 Fire, 362-363, 416, 424 Firepower, modern, 239 First cause, 47 F leet (armata), 176 Flexibility, 401 Flight, 35 1-353, 369; simulated, 424-425 Florence, 65, 145-146, 201, 216-217, 255-256, 262-273, 342-344, 356; accidents in, 34; bad order in, 60-62; building of, 29, 31, 33; cavalry of, 236; change of magistracy in, 125; Cosimo de1 Medici in, 112, 152-154; credul¬ ity of, 429-431, 437-438; defense of, 206207, 239, 418; divisions in, 159-160; elections in, 144; harmful acquisitions of, 250; impos¬ sibility or grave difficulties of, 147-149; Machiavelli as legate of, 101; as modern example, 55-56, 215, 220-221, 223-224,

INDEX

230-231, 277-278, 285-286, 296, 392-394; people of, 80n3; and Pisa, 158, 363-364, 367, 371; reordering of, 136-138; republic of, 176; Savonarola in, 72, 165, 400; weakness of, 123-124 Fois, Monsignor de (Gaston de Foix), 235, 240241, 270, 432 Food, 41-42, 80, 146, 392, 416, 423, 439. See also Hunger Force, 38-39, 87, 222, 225-228 Foreign affairs, 122-124, 175-177, 254, 266267, 374 Foreigner, 49, 288, 312-313, 358, 374, 376, 440; on earth, 184-185; Samnite as, 78 Foreign policy, 38-39, 51, 271-272, 293, 387 Forgetfulness of Machiavelli, 2 17n 16 Forli, Count Girolamo, 338 Form, 87, 236-237; constitutional and natural, 116; as defender, 151; departure from, 279; descent into body by, 119; of education, 428-429; of government, 28-29; of Mach¬ iavelli, 13; and matter, 51, 79, 81, 96, 116, 346-347, 392; and princes, 139; receptivity to, 173-174; of regime, 118; replaced by gen¬ tlemen, 163; unique, 147; wicked, 346-347 Fortress, 265-274, 338-339, 352, 394-395, 419, 432; of hope and salvation, 422-423; of Pisa, 393, 429; pride of, 278; of Romans, 284 Fortune, 89-90, 92-95, 282-287, 291-292, \ 300-302, 400, 406-407, 418, 427; aid by, 417; V in battle, 35 1-352; of building, 30; and change with the times, 347-350; direction of, 273; exile by, 398; government by, 372; great, 225; of Machiavelli, 94, 331, 428; malice of, 62; and necessity, 189-192, 363; and pru¬ dence, 310; of Romans, 42—43; and spirit, 401—404, 437; subjection to, 227; thoughts as gift of, 8; web of, 285 Founder, 63-69, 279, 299-364; Machiavelli as, 298 Fragility, 38, 85, 166 France, 74, 170, 270, 354-355, 402; ancient or¬ ders of, 89; corruption in, 160-161; disarma¬ ment of, 223-224; and Fngland, 91; obliga¬ tion of kings of, 82; and Switzerland, 246, 257-258, 370. See also French Francesco Maria della Rovere, 271 Francis I, King, 94-95, 257-259 Francis, Saint, 303-304 Fraternity, 63, 309 Frateschi, 159 Fraud, 290-292, 362, 428-430, 436-437; of Brutus, 305; of Cyrus, 422; and force, 225 — 228; of government, 257; necessity of, 375; against plebs, 143; in war, 424—425 Freedom, 296. See also Liberty

INDEX

^xegusu^ Ottayiano, 269 £rencfr>f-95, 105, 363-364, 410, 429-433; ad¬ vice by, 125; aid of, 123-124; and air)'intelli¬ gences, 165-167; appeal to, 182; devotion to, 278; faithlessness of, 176; and Florentines, 255-257; and Gauls, 57, 199-200, 379-380; as Ghibellines and youth, 412; and gold, 217219; language, 238-239; as outside force par excellence, 220; power of, 426; resistance to, 268-269; and Romans, 97, 190, 273, 279, 283-286, 300, 304, 3^-45^362, 399n66, 406, 415-419, 437;(6ncl SamniTcs, /RmSff; say¬ ing of, 208; treasure o77T8T'vnTUe among, 187; warfare of, 210-213, 235-236, 238-242, 394. See also France Friends, 306-309, 337, 394-395, 425; advice from, 415; and authority, 323, 325; cavalry of, 236; deliberation of, 231; and force, 220221; lack of, 132; as ladder, 214-215; of Machiavelli, 21-23, 240; anti money, 285; of¬ fice of, 203; partisan, 80 Fulvius, Gaius, 436 Future, 188-189, 297, 431, 437 Gabade, 274 Galba, 68 Galeazzo, Giovan, 226 Garden, 328-329 Garin, Fugenio, 21 n 1, 56n55, 203n24 Gauls, 57, 2(K), 211n7, 350, 380n3l, 410, 417 Generalities, 143-147, 166 Generation, 66, 433; human, 67, 204-205; of mixed body, 222n5 Generosity, 279-280, 286, 389, 393, 396 Genoa, 255-256, 269-270 Gentiles, 194, 203-204, 235 Gentlemen, 48, 162-164, 170, 375-376, 383384 Genus, 396 Germany, 192, 21 1-213, 224, 256, 286; defense of, 249-250; faithlessness of, 429; goodness of, 160-162, 164; virtue ot, 187 Gesco, 405 Ghibellines, 412 Giacomini, Antonio, 367-368 Gilbert, Allan, 344n54, 371 Gill>ert, Felix, 21 n 1, 25nl, 79nl, 125n22, 216n 14 Glory, 68, 109, 35 3, 364, 379, 414-415; in the building of cities, 29, 32; of Camillus, 58; of Claudio, 369; and common good, 106; of con¬ querors, 186; of Decius, 433; double, 360; and fraud, 425; idle passion for, 293-296; and ignominy, 425-427; of Lycurgus, 39; of Machiavelli, 347, 411; of Manlius, 97, 346; in multitude, 139-177; and necessity, 179, 355;

449 anti obedience, 382; offered to soldiers, 134— 135; private, 405; for refusing honors, 119120; of Scipio, 410 Gluttony, 251n6 God, 262-263; angry, 168, 234; glory of, 1 34; as silent partner in conspiracy, 322 Gold, 217-219, 222, 272, 285-286, 318, 388, 410 Goliath, 380 Good: false image of, 156; greatest, 194-195; human, 205, 218, 268; idea of, 188. See also Common good Goodness, 310, 315-317, 346-347, 387; of bodies, 299-300; of Camillus, 301; and educa¬ tion, 399-400; of Germany, 160-162, 164; and humanity, 435; and religion, 385; and virtue, 349, 368-369; anti wisdom, 365 Goths, 211-212 Government, 36; of acquisitions, 393-394; and conspiracy, 337, 341-342; defined, 146; free, 301; good, 155; hidden, 157-158, 170, 184, 254-256, 298; indirect, 2(H), 316-317, 340, 342; of men and God, 397; necessary injustice of, 316; and revenge, 145; in unity, 395 Gracchi, 43, 121 Gracchus, Titus Sempronius, 420 Cirandfather, 89, 361 Grand l urk. See Selim 1 Gratitude, 101-1 1 1, 139, 151, 333 Gravity, 10-11, 189-191, 408-409, 411 Greatness, supreme, 207-208, 226 Greece, 280-289, 336; hostility of, 130; repub¬ lics of, 66; anti Rome, 176-177, 206, 217, 328; and Samnium, 291; subjugation of, 365; anil Turkey, 187 Greek (language), 106, 294; Machiavelli’s knowledge of, 35, 206 Gregory the Great, Saint, 203 Guelfs, 395 Guicciardini, Francesco, 23, 29n3, 43n35, 61n62, 65n5, 68nll, 71n5, 74nl4, 77n20, 80n3, 93nl4, 104n5, 105n9, 116n9, 157n25, 229n16, 361n86, 368, 386n40 Guicciardini, Giovanni, 61-62 Guidobaldo da Montefeltro, 268 Guillemain, Bernard, 97nl9 Guilt, 316 Hannibal, 144, 275, 284nl7, 350-35 1; anticipa¬ tion by, 214-215; as authority, 222-225; at Cannae, 108, 157, 277, 418; and Carthage, 278-279; anti Claudio, 368; crossing the Alps, 94; cruelty of, 410; frauds of, 424-425; and Hanno, 286-287; new, 403-405; opinion of, 243; and Scipio, 352-353, 376-379, 382; youth of, 348

450 Hanno, 277, 286-287, 340, 402, 425 Happiness, 390; fragility of, 166; perpetual, 285-286 Harshness, 379-383, 409-410 Hasdrubal (ambassador), 404-405 Hasdrubal (son of Hamilcar), 218, 368-369 Head, 335, 337-338, 364; of Christian religion, 203; Dione as, 343; of Florentine infantry, 236; of innovation, 376-377, 413-414; killing of, 390; and mode, 85; popular, 121; replace¬ able, 83; want of, 135, 167-168 Heart, 36, 286-287, 328, 395 Heaven, 52, 195 Hellanicus, 328 Heraclea, Clearchus, 81 Hercules Ergidius (the Egyptian), 222 Hernici, 345 Hero, classical, 179 Herod the Great King, 171 Herodian, 335 Herodotus, 328n33, 333n40 Hesitation, 257 Hexter, J. H., 35n6, 87nlO Hiero, King, 22-23 Hieronymus, King, 168, 326 Hipparchus, 335 Hippias, 335 Hippodamos, I48nl4 Historian, 251, 289, 400; Livy as, 228, 285, 398, 401, 406, 419; on Machiavelli, 160; Roman, 199; writer as, 168-169; Xenophon as, 226 Histories, 248-249, 324, 344, 403, 415-416, 427, 438; ancient, 79; and Caesar, 67; Roman, 285; true knowledge of, 181 Hobbes, Thomas, 82, 93, 1 37n48, 319, 333 Holy Roman Empire, 402 Holy Wars, 185 Home, 221-225 Homicide, 65 Homonym, 427 Honesty, 176 Honor, 262-265, 367, 396, 407, 410; accorded to antiquity, 26; desire for, 46; of founder, 66-67; from a free state, 80; greater and less¬ er, 118-120; and insults, 274; lost by Baglioni, 101; from Machiavelli, 382; and neces¬ sity, 422; and property, 323, 388, 391; in Sici¬ lian expedition, 365-366; of world, 195 Hope, 78, 167, 276-279, 404-405, 437, 439; abandonment to, 287-288; and arms, 357; in fear, 365; fortress of, 422-423; and Fortune’s designs, 285; modern, 370, 372; in outside aid, 430; and spirit, 322-323; of victory, 418; and virtue, 416 Horatii, Roman, 92, 94-95 Horatius, 135 n43 Horatius Codes, 97

INDEX

Horse, 359, 385, 389, 406, 416; spirited, 244246. See also Cavalry Humanity, 283-284, 333-334, 367, 374-379, 381-382, 387, 410-41 1; of Baglioni, 101 n 12; of Carmignuola, 245-246, 265; and coldness, 258-259; and goodness, 435; and humility, 132-133, 144; of Machiavelli, 158, 164, 279; of Piero Soderini, 349; and pride, 317; and tameness, 255; unsentimental, 232; as virtue, 171-172 Humility, 230-232, 279, 384, 388; and arro¬ gance, 23 1-232; as greatest good, 195; and humanity, 132-133, 144, 349; and virtue, 220, 228 Humor, 10, 43, 310, 322 Hunger, 42, 77, 110, 211-212, 368, 371, 390, 395, 406, 413. See also Food Hunting, 412, 421-425 Hybris, 140 Hydra, 266-267 Icilius, 135n44 Idea, 307-308; of the good, 188 Ignorance, 109; cowardice as, 333; of govern¬ ment in general, 146; political, 80, 245; resolute^ 108 Images, 412, 421^-22, 424-425 Imitation, 163, 201, 407-409, 426, 435; of an¬ cients, 27-28, 55; of Brutus, 306; and dis¬ obedience, 398; of father, 433; of God, 99100; by Machiavelli, 243, 345, 426; of Marius, 419; of nature, 198-199; of priests, 184; of Rome, 50, 201-202, 206-207; standard for, 419 Impartiality, 94, 106, 127, 151, 298, 394-395 Imperialism, 51, 53, 74, 269, 365, 440; and cosmopolitanism, 198-199; indirect, 185; limits to, 205-206 Impossibility, 94, 147-148, 323, 325-327, 335, 347, 393-394,434; belief in, 163; of change of spirit, 389-390; and difficulty, 397; of imita¬ tion of Rome, 201-202; of ordering a per¬ petual republic, 369, 381; and prudence, 412 Impudence, 52, 225, 294, 432 Incest, 281n9 Inequality, 84, 160-164 Infantry, 232-236, 242-250, 328; ancient, 260; and elephants, 389; of Florentines, 371; in Genoa, 269 Infection by modern corruption, 259 Infinity, 38, 46, 50, 73, 157, 194, 349, 354 Ingenuity, 11-12, 218-219 Ingratitude, 119-120, 172, 323n26 Inheritance, 65, 88, 140, 275-276, 314, 420 Injustice, 12, 106, 316, 333 Innovation, 1 13, 376-378, 413 Institution, 7, 116, 295, 302, 311, 387,412,434

INDEX

Insults, 109, 273-276, 391-392 Intellect, 333, 393 Intelligence, 70, 146, 302; airy, 165-166, 168 — 169, 172, 256-257 Intelligibility, 268 Intelligibles, 70, 281-283 Intention, 252, 306-307, 432; and accident, 45; author’s, 7-13; bad, 231; discovery of, 330; evil, 337, 341; of Fabius, 294; hidden, 163; and invention, 360-361; of legislator, 164, 435; little things as auspices of, 420; of Machiavelli, 9-12, 22, 25, 27-28, 255, 436438; and necessity, 372; new standard of, 65; to procure common benefit, 298; of provi¬ dence, 407; and prudence, 323, test of, 343 Interest, 67-^8, 247, 280-281, 316, 339; appeal to, 264; of Brutus and Machiavelli, 305; con¬ flict of, 409^411; of fatherland, 426; and glory, 294-296; harmony of, 366; public and private, 404; of tyrant, 318; of young, 414. See also Self-interest Interpretation, 73, 75-77, 387; o(Discourses, 37In 13; of providence, 406^07; as remedy for apparent naivete, 160; of speech, 420 Intolerance, 203 Invention, 402; of Christianity, 183; of Machiavelli, 415; modern, 131; new, 360-363 Iron, 217-218, 286 Irony, 188, 420 Italian (language), 389; ami French, 238-239; and Latin, 76, 1 35, 243, 282, 318n20, 373 Italy, 192, 202, 253-254, 287-288, 355, 402, 410; and Alexander, 219; ambitious leisure in, 272; ancient liberty of, 258; arms of, 201, 213, 223-224, 361,416; cities of, 182; conquest of, 90; corruption of, 160-162; defense of, 206207, 239-241,418^119; errors of, 351; exhor¬ tation to unify, 74; anil France, 165, 200, 354-355, 364, 429; Hannibal in, 348, 353, 376; and Machiavelli, 8, 65, 93; persuasion of, 248-250; princes of, 244-245; Pyrrhus in, 375; in revolt, 144; ruin of, 73; virtue in, 187; wine of, 200, 211

Jealousy, 108-109, 171 Jerusalem, 291 Jews, 204, 212; and Christianity, 215; kings of, 88-89 Judea, 105, 212 Judgment, 201, 398; and belief, 84-85, 260-261; difficulty of, 382; of great things, 393; of lives of great men, 424; of Philip of Macedon, 418; by outcome, 413; by people, 56, 408; and prudence, 271, 405; and punishment, 260265; of Sallust, 435; of Tacitus, 373-374, 384; of utility, 423

451 Julius II, Pope, 100-101, 217, 268-269, 313, 349-350, 432 Juno, 73, 193, 203, 208 Jupiter, 385 Justice, 56, 212; agreement on definition of, 1 37; claims to, 96; distributive, 147; exhorta¬ tion to, 398; factual truth of, 265; human and divine, 244; and humanity, 375; anil initia¬ tive, 60; and injustice, 426-427; invisible, 279; and moderation, 101; and necessity, 357; origin of, 36-37; and punishment, 60, 308309; and religion, 300-301; and responsibil¬ ity, 254; show of, 214-215; and stability, 39; of tyranny, 318 Justin, l(M)n8 Juvenal, 251, 266, 321-322

Keeper of brother, 159 Keys, 144, 217, 432 Kindness, 379, 410 Kluxen, Kurt, 31n8 Knowledge, 28; of the country, 223, 421 -422; of the cycle, 40; of the enemy, 370-372, 418; and execution, 380; of Fabius, 108; and glory, 295-296; and images, 421^23; of justice, 37; limitations of human, 143; of natural and supernatural things, 165, 256; of necessity, 334; of potential princes, 23; of proportion, 382; and prudence, 381-382; and science, 412; as title to rule, 389; of world, 403. See also Self-knowledge

l.ampugnano, Giovanni Andrea da, 338 Language, 233; changes of, 202-206; regime in, 205n28. See also under specific languages Lant (Lanques), Monsignor ili, 394 Latin (language), 287, 299, 388; and Christians, 203; and Greek, 206; and Italian, 76, 135, 243, 282, 318n20, 373; and Tuscan, 238 Latins, 190, 208, 227-236, 271, 294; Aeneas and, 213; defense by, 404; praetors of, 255, 257-258; rebellion of, 192; in unhappiest of states, 261-263 Lavinians, 23 1, 255 Law, 41, 204, 435; and insults, 275-276; of na¬ tions, 279-280, 300; ordering of, 30-31; ori¬ gin of, 169-170; rule of, 59 Leadership, 242, 357, 360, 413 Leagues, 175; description of, 201 Leaping, 133 Ix*fort, Claude, 17; re-creation of matter by, 7 Legitimacy, 314, 412 Lentulus, Cornelius, 340 Lentulus, Lucius, 426 Leo X, Pope, 257-258 Levity, 325-326

452 Liberality, 375, 378, 395; as motive shown, 150-152; of the wise, 22-23 Liberation, 345, 388; of fatherland, 321, 327, 342; from tutelage, 206 Liberty, 44, 53; ancient, 128; cause of, 129; and dependences, 29; guard of, 45^f7, 118; limits to, 31; maintenance of, 309; moderation as defense for, 141; and motions of unconscious forces, 8-9; of Rome, 42-43; and tyranny, 193-194. See also Freedom Library, 390 Libya, 222 License, 37, 41 Lighthouse, 269 Limitations: of human empire, 207; to human power, 191; natural, 299-300 Lipari, 397-398 Little things, 10, 406-407, 420 Livius Salinator, 369 Locke, John, 93 Lodovico, Lord, 354 Lombardy, 258; and Florence, 429; fraud in, 226; and French, 57, 94-95, 199-200, 211, 224, 354; gentlemen of, 162 Louis XII, King, 231, 269 Love, 76, 268, 315-317, 325, 373, 383-384; as admission of weakness, 89; of antiquity, 287; as ascent to better nature, 133; of children, 338; of common good, 354-355, 383; domes¬ tic policy as, 198-199; and fear, 304, 317, 377; and force, 204; of glory, 172, 295-296; of liberty, 153; of people, 434; of prince, 168, 197; and punishment, 365; of sun, 286; uni¬ versal, 199, 262-264, 320; unrequited, 285; and war, 280-281 Loyalty, 55, 237, 329, 358; freshened by execu¬ tion, 149; human, 164; from relief, 126 Lucanians, 288 Lucca, 61, 215, 255 Lucilla, 334-335 Lucretia, 306, 314-316, 391-392 Lucretius, 51, 114n7, 150nl7, 15In 19, 27In 16 Lucullus, L. Licinius, 249, 359 Lucumo, 57 Lust, 280; for rule, 345-347; and tyranny, 135 Lycophron, 201 n20 Lycurgus, 33, 39-40, 44, 49, 66, 71, 104, 198 Maccabees, 166n44 Macedonia, 22, 66, 217, 219, 360, 367, 415, 439. See also Philip II, king of Macedon Machiavelli, Niccolo: advice of, 155, 398—401, 413, 441; boldness of, 12; error of, 10, 21, 327n32, 380n31, 436-438; as explorer, 26; forgetfulness of, 217n 16; friends of, 21-23, 240; humor of, 10-11, 136; influence of, 201, 331; literary form of, 10, 13; modesty, 12,

INDEX

27-28; novelty, 255; patriotism of, 8; as philosopher, 11, 418; reputation, 8; sources, 7; as writer, 279, 412; Works (excluding the Discourses): The Art of War, 22n5, 54n53, 195n 11, 218n 18, 222n4, 236nn8, 9, 238nl2, 242nl6, 243nl8, 245nn21, 22, 246n25, 247nn28, 30, 288n22, 290n25, 291n26; Florentine Histories, 21 n 1, 23, 29n2, 31,41 n29, 61, 102, 106nl0, 112n2, 166, 182, 184, 186n2, 203nn24, 26, 205n27, 211n7, 213n9, 215n12, 220nl, 224n7, 226nl0, 245n22, 269nl3, 323n26, 332, 338, 341n51, 343n53, 345n58, 357n77, 439n43; Mandragola, 322n25, 417n9; The Prince, 9-10, 13, 2lnl, 22, 23n6, 29n2, 30n5, 31, 36, 69nl2, 74, 79nl, 82, 99, 106nll, 146n9, 159n30, 167, 176-177, 191, 194, 213n8, 237, 245nn21, 22, 25ln6, 282, 295n3, 308, 31 3, 317, 320nn22, 23, 324, 331 n3, 338, 345n58, 347n61, 348n63, 349, 351nn67, 68, 357n77, 373nl4, 374, 378, 380n32, 382, 385n38, 395n59, 397, 400nn69, 70, 405, 412-413, 421, 427-428, 431 —432; other, 162n36, 164n38, 268nl2, 350n66, 393nn56, 57 Machiavellianism, 225, 320, 390; definition of, 8; and scholars, 8-9 Macrinus, 330-332 Madness, 305-307, 322-323, 352 Maenius, 47 Magian, 327 Magnanimity, 144, 328, 385-386, 388, 410—411 Mahomet II, 89 Mamelukes, 31 Mamercus, Tiberius Aemilius, 148 Management: of chance, 417; of Christianity, 182-185; of conspiracy, 291, 322, 326-327, 339; of disunion, 271; of enemy, 418; of examples, 248; of fear, 272; hidden, 298; of Lucretia’s accident, 315-316; of men, 51; of necessity, 400; of passions, 273, 282; of reli¬ gion, 101; of trial of Manlius, 346; of war, 424-425 Manent, Pierre, 52n51, 78n2 1, 225n8, 308nl0 Manilius, Gaius, 357 Mankind, 193, 293-296, 298 Manlii (Publius and Cains), 407, 434 Manliness, 415-417 Manlius, Gnaeus, 357 Manlius Capitolinus, Marcus, 97, 168, 170, 301; accusation of, 58-60, 62; descent to lesser of¬ fice by, 119; envy of, 103, 400; trial of, 345 — 347 Manlius Capitolinus Imperiosus, Lucius: saved by son Titus, 408-411; treatment of Titus, 380 Manlius Imperiosus Torquatus, Titus, 233 — 234, 379-385, 389-390; cruelty of, 373; death

INDEX

Manlius Imperiosus Torquatus (cont.) of son of, 301; filial piety of, 408-411; and Frenchman, 415, 417; orders of, 234 Mantua, Francesco Gonzaga, Marquess of, 432 Marches, 368-369 Marcia, 330-332 Marcius Rutilus Allifas, 435 Maria, Francesco, 217 Marianne, 171 Mario, 46 Marius, Caius, 46, 102, 116, 333, 346-347, 387, 419; Machiavelli’s award to, 121 n 17; parties of, 83 Marriage, 390-392, 396, 417n9, 434 Marsilius of Padua, 41n29, 58, 170nn48, 49, 346n60, 376n22, 388 Massilians, 21 3, 292 Massimo, 441 Massinissa, King, 214 Masterpiece, small, 153, 436n37 Mastery, 31, 97-98, 283 Materianus, 330-331 Matter, 201, 210, 390; of books, 7; and classical cycle, 86-87; effectual truth of, 205-206; and form, 51, 79, 81, 96, 116, 346-347, 392; gov¬ ernment of, 55; hunger for, 212; and peoples, 102, 139; potentiality of, 102, 135; for a rare man, 162, 164; resistance of, 118; super¬ fluous, 300. See also Subject matter Maurusians, 212-213 Maximilian, Fmperor, 221 Maximus, 438—141 Mazzoni, Guido, 25nl, 337n45 Means and ends, 292, 306n9, 327 Medes, 187, 226 Medici, 153-154, 278, 302, 310, 321, 325, 334, 344, 356 Medici, Cosimo de\ 61, 112-113, 152-155, 178-179 Medici, Giuliano de’, 332-333 Medici, Lorenzo de’, 165-166, 335, 394, 398 Megarians, 340 Melius, 301. See also Spurius Melius Memory, eternal, 101, 104n6, 364 Men: kinds of, 67; old, 119; outstanding, 143 — 144 Menenius, Marcus, 44, 47 Mercenaries, 151, 245, 259-260, 383; and aux¬ iliaries, 251; Carthaginian, 404-405; con¬ demnation of, 134 Mesopotamia, 330 Messinians, 214 Mettius, King, 93-94 Milan, 94-95, 354; conquest of, 257-258; cor¬ ruption of, 83; duke of, 223-224, 231, 246, 268, 338, 429. See also Sforza, Francesco Maria; Visconti

453 Milichus, 325-326 Militia, 43, 63, 185, 332, 348, 415-416 Mind, 136-137, 303, 310; blinded, 345-346; de¬ termined, 320-321; disturbance of, 336-337; double, 146; ill-contented, 325; of multitude, 167; purge of, 322; revelation of, 339. See also Brain; Spirit Minturnians, 333 Miracle, 74, 171 “Mirror of princes,” 22, 317 Moderation, 85, 118, 286, 401,414-415; as de¬ fense for lil)erty, 141; on fraud, 228; of inde¬ pendence, 195; life of, 101; of old men, 119, 180; of princes, 170; as support for human freedom, 169 Modernity, 8-12, 131, 160-164, 232-247, 352; l)eginnings of, 219-232 Modern political philosophers, 11, 172 Modesty, 371, 414-415; of Machiavelli, 12, 27-28; misplaced, 436n37 Momigliano, Arnaldo, 368n4 Money, 245n21, 261, 285-287, 345, 384-385, 429; acquisition of, 226; and name, 221; as sinew of war, 15, 216-219; as tribute, 251; virtue in, 223 Mons Sacer, 128, 135 Montesquieu, Charles-Lmis de, 397n62 Moor, 338 Morat, 353 Moses, 30-31, 66, 212, 380, 4(H) Mossini, Lanfranco, 31n8 Mother, 29n3, 70-71, 306; earth as, 222 Motion, 52, 116, 187 Mount Athos, 32, 423n20 Multitude, 205, 36444 I; constancy of, 297; fear and glory in, 139-177; headless, 170; na¬ ture of, 167; self-sufficiency of, 245; unshack¬ led, 169 Mutolo, Alfonso del, 438 Nabis, 130, 328, .334 Naivete, ruthless, 160 Name, 103, 204, 220-221, 233-234; abstraction from, 129-131; of another, 413; in bag, 144145; bestowed by election, 140; and Caesar, 67-69, 173; change of, 212-213; of consuls, 143; error in, 47n41; feminine, 46n39; and force, 1 1 3-1 14, 222; and form, 51; of gentle¬ men, 162-164; inherited, 420; lack of, 146, 425; Latin, 287; new, 98-99, 125-126; not gi¬ ven, 100, 113, 290-291; of Octavian, 154— 155; and substance, 271-272; of Torquatus, 408-410 Naples, 162, 176, 215, 221-224, 377 Natural law, 319 Natural right(s), 93, 324 Natural science, 295

454 Nature, 113, 391; as batterer of men, 79, 133, 302; and Christianity, 387; of countries, 423; equality to, 385;forceof, 348-350; of Freneh, 415; as guide for men, 36; human, 9, 59-60, 104-105, 111-112, 120-122, 132-133, 381, 428-431, 434^435; imitation of, 198-199; in¬ convenience in, 417; and insults, 276; knowl¬ edge of, 73; of the laws, 382n34; as limit, 207, 300; of Manlius, 379-382; mastery of, 268, 283; and merit, 96; and modern armies, 241242; new, 127; and parties, 394-395; provi¬ sion of, 50-51; similarity of, 397; spirited, 425; state of, in Hobbes, 319; as support for human virtue, 38-39, 112, 204-206, 215, 218, 252; and variations in government, 35; and violence, 399 Necessity, 30-34, 120-123, 207, 210-212, 247, 249, 321, 330-334, 355-358, 361, 380, 385, 409-312, 417-318, 432, 439-340; of being alone, 69; to believe, 191; and benefits, 109110; for captain, 218-219, 223, 421-323; and choice, 22, 30-32, 123, 227, 232, 255-257, 292; to conceal necessity, 150; and disorder, 371; of division, 394; of execution, 309; of extinguishing envy, 398-300; and fortune, 362-363; of fraud, 226-228, 375; and glory, 296; and good actions, 41; of government, 102; of imperialism, 183; of ingratitude, 104, 119-120; of love and fear, 377; and mag¬ nanimity, 388; of modern abjectness, 402403; and nature, 50, 146; neglect of, 231; new, 435; and passion, 273, 428-330; of pa¬ tience, 347; and the people, 95, 197; for prog¬ ress, 189; of punishment, 260-265, 281, 316, 372; of purges, 204-205; recapture of, 276; of reformer, 98; of religion, 408; revelation of, 42; of scholar, 7; and utility, 241, 259— 260, 369 Nelematus, 327-328, 331 Nephews, 101, 226 Neptune, 159 Nero, Claudius, 368-369, 405 Nero, Emperor, 325-326, 328 Neutrality, 231, 234, 262, 345, 392, 432 New Carthage, 290, 375-376 Nicias, 158, 219, 319, 365-368 Nietzsche, Friedrich, 10, 100n8 Nobility, 157, 391-392, 398; of despair, 372; excess of, 147; as ferocity, 142-143; and in¬ tellect, 333; and justice, 36-37; and necessity, 355; of tongue, 358 Nocera, 424 Notnos, 417 Nonsense, military, 185 Novara, 242, 246, 248, 353 Numa, Pompilius, 69-72, 82, 88, 91, 148, 254

INDEX

Number, 56, 170, 194n9, 233, 245-247, 438441; of conspirators, 322; creation of, 134; sovereignty of, 49-50 Numisius, 257-259 Oath, 70-71, 75-76, 78, 83, 100-101, 161, 177, 327-328, 410 Obedience, 167, 382 Obligation, 80, 82, 393, 427-429; freedom from, 160; and gratitude, 109; of Machiavelli, 21, 418; and obstinacy, 405; of scholars to Machiavelli, 7 Oblivion, 202-206 Observation, 76, 199-200, 381-383, 426, 439 Obstinacy)90, 199, 201, 293, 355-356, 416; in defense of earth, 239; of dictator, 108; and firm science, 412413; of infantry, 233-238; and ingenuity, 290-291; of Manlii, 434; and obedience, 382; and obligation, 405-406; and r e 1 i gjojx,.77—78; -of RameN anemic s, 192424; (anTSamnites, 196, 220, 234, 357, 423, 427; } and virtue, 2427*146 Octavian, Caius Julius Caesar Augustus, Em¬ peror, 29, 39, 154 Oddi, 361 Offense, 239-243, 368, 380 Oligarchy, 43, 434, 440 Opinion: common, 42; false, 186-189, 247-259; of justice, 43; and reason, 260 Oppression, 55, 193 Oracle: of Apollo, 306; at Delphi, 386 Orator, 172, 419—420 Orient, 277; princes of, 197 Ortanes, 327-328 Osculation, 306-308, 385 Ottimati, 41n31, 81, 154 Overpopulation, 205, 212 Pacts, nonobservance of, 177 Pacuvius Celanus, 144-146, 150 Paleopolis, 291, 387 Papirius Cursor, Lucius, 77-78, 301, 416417, 422 Papirius Cursor, Spurius, 77, 4354-36 Parody of scholastic disputation, 221-225 Parricide, 262-263 Parthians, 246, 286, 356 Particulars, knowledge of, 143-147 Parties, 4248, 55-56, 272, 394-395 Passion, 50, 247, 266, 369, 414, 428429, 434; for glory, 293-296; of idleness, 273-293; management of, 273; and prudence, 282 Patrimony, 196, 305-307, 374. See also Father Patriotism, 184, 288, 298, 358, 435436, 438; and creation, 149; of Machiavelli, 8. See also Fatherland

INDEX

Paulus Emilius, 367-368, 390, 415 Pausanius, 280-281, 315, 321-322 Pay for Roman troops, 151 Pazzi, 32 1, 325, 332-333, 336 Pazzi, Guglielmo de’, 343 Peace, arts of, 153 Peirone, Luigi, 299n2 Pelopidas, 52, 84, 91, 336, 359-360 Penula, 157-158 People, 243; chosen, 212; founding and, 149; gratitude of, 101-110; Machiavelli’s favor for, 152-155; malleability of, 173-174. See also Princes, and peoples Perfection, 403, 417, 421, 435; accidental, 111, 148, 182, 189, 226; of authority, 64; at l>eginnings, 299; of captain, 419; impossible, 148; of knowledge, 423; of Rome, 39, 50, 126-129, 346; in speech, 276 Pericles, 218-219 Perpetuity, 114, 116, 369, 381-383; of exile, 338; of happiness, 285-286; of republic, 405, 441 Perseus, King, 12, 22-23, 415 Persia, 187, 274, 327, 413 Personification, 156, 283, 431 Pertinax, 68 Perugia, 101, 361 Petrucci, Pandolfo, 32 1 -322, 337, 340 Phalaris, 321 Philip 11, King of Macedon, 32n 12, 90, 99-100; accusation by, 201; cruelty of, 177, 211; fraud of, 226; and Pausanius, 280-281, 321 -322; prudence of, 418; in w ar against Romans, 352 Philippi, 370 Philo, Publius (or Publilius), 387 Philosopher(s), 181, 202-206, 240-241, 311, 401, 424; of airy intelligences, 165, 169; an¬ cient, 36, 386; and choice, 23 1 -232; and cor¬ ruption, 439n43; exile as, 288; general know 1edge of, 422; as god, 221; as grave man, 411; Machiavellian, 313; modern, 186; moral, 355; Platonic, 307-308, 317; and priest, 394; of progress, 186; and Savonarola, 237; and speech, 276; and substance, 396; woman as, 392 Philosophy, 172n51, 191, 304-305, 390, 421422; allies in, 412; in Athens, 102; and Chris¬ tianity, 195n 12; and conspiracies, 317-318; and heaven, 282; and leisure, 272. See also Classical political philosophy; Modern politi¬ cal philosophers Pietro ad Vincula, San, 313 Piety, 133, 258, 296, 357; modern, 159; of Nicias, 158; paternal, 313 Pincin, Carlo, 25nl, 32n 11 Piracy, 397-398

455 Pisa, 363, 371; blindness of, 438; failure to cap¬ ture, 158, 367; and fortresses, 266, 270-271, 393, 429; hostility of, 255; siege of, 12 3, 125; victory of, 236 Pisistratus, 40, 102-104, 173, 193, 340 Piso, 325-326, 328 Pistoia, 255-256, 271-272, 393-394 Pity, 133 Plant, 198-199 Plato, 35,90, 335-336; and Christianity, 100n8, 281; philosophers of, 307-308, 317; and Polybius, 35; Works: Apology of Socrates, 311 n 12, 386; Gorgias, 307-308; Laws, 29n3, 31 n6, 38n21, 122nl9, 271 n 15, 275n4; Repub¬ lic, 38n21, 45, 51n49, 187, 188n4, 205, 275n4, 308nl0, 318, Statesman, 38n21 Plautianus, 329, 335 Pleasure, 306; in accidents, 27; of founders, 279 Plutarch, 66, 176, 317; gravity of, 189-191; Aemilius Paulus, 367, 390, 415n4; Caesar, 339; Caius Marius, 333; Camillus, 384; Cicero, 341n50; Demetrius, 175n52; Lucullus, 359; Lycurgus, 49n47; Marcus Crassus, 356-357; Moralia, 270-271; Pelopidas, 52n50, 84n7, 92, 336; Pyrrhus, 375; 7'hemistocles, 289n23 Pocock, John G. A., 89n3, 386n41 Poetry, 29n3, 54, 222-223, 398; history as, 423; natural attractions of, 31 Poison, 340-341, 375, 378, 439-441 Political science, 324, 376, 440; and abstraction, 129; and cavalry, 244; humanist, 1 52-155; in¬ stitutional, 311; of Machiavelli, 242, 298; and poetry, 423. See also Classical political science Politics: ignorance in, 80, 245; Machiavelli’s grave face in, 11 Polybius, 28nl, 33n2, 35^K), 49, 53-54, 79n2, 144, 182, 206-207, 252nl() Pompey, Cn. Pompeius Magnus, 112, 175, 178 Pomponazzi, Pietro, 165n43, 166n44 Pontius, Claudius, 357-358, 424^426 Pope, 12, 74-75, 370, 402. See also under names of popes

Popilius, 336 Porsenna, King, 97, 109, 192 Postumius, Spurius, 127, 427 Potentiality, 102, 114-115; and matter, 135; and multitude as, 170; in nature, 215 Poverty, 42, 49, 121-122, 303-304, 371, 388391, 396 Power: actual and potentia.1, 113-114; excessive, 202; human, 183/f9L/nsolence of, 152 Practice, 21, 26, 421 -4T2 Praise, 66-69 Prato, 34, 278 Preacher, 165, 237, 315 Prediction, 165

456 Prejudice, 297, 412—113 Prenestians, 406-407 Preoccupation, 152-155 Pride, 228, 264-265, 268 Priests, 85, 164, 278, 333, 431; direction of for¬ tune by, 273; dishonesty of, 304; exiles as, 288; imitation of, 184; new role for, 295; and philosophers, 394; and slavery, 276; Turkish, 322; usurping, 328 Princes: and benevolence, 320; living under, 79-88; and peoples, 79, 139-141, 171, 278, 292-293, 365, 411; potential, 22-23, 28; tyranny of new, 97-101 Principle, 50-51, 103, 259, 309, 439; beginnings as, 227; of marriage, 391 Privernati, 264-265, 271 Privilege, 279-281 Procopius, 212-213 Progress, 124-125, 186-189, 238, 241, 300 Propaganda, 238, 296 Property, 121-122, 320-323, 341, 374, 388, 391; acquisition of, 120-122; of brother, 159; in common, 210; defense of, 131 Proportion, 163, 380-382, 437 Proverb, 146, 410-411 Providence, 259, 406-407; belief in, 437; design of, 370; divine, 184, 189-190; good will of, 218; and Fortune, 282-283, 287, 292; and re¬ turn to beginnings, 304; use of, 273; waiting for, 41 Prudence, 76-77, 263-265, 295, 310-316, 323340, 354-358, 384-385, 407-408, 421-422, 430-331, 433, 439-^41; and accident, 300302, 319; of Aristotle, 380; in bargains, 93, 95; of Brutus, 308; of Camillus, 399; com¬ mon, 364; in defense, 91; of Fabius, 351; fail¬ ures of, 282; and goodness, 387; great, 273 — 274; and habit, 428; of Hanno, 425; human, 33-34; of imitating Rome, 113; and inconve¬ nience, 50; and indirection, 375; and judg¬ ment, 405, 418-419; and knowledge, 73, 381-382; and liberty, 47; and negligence, 106; of old man, 411—312; and perfection, 40; re¬ strictions of, 162; and tradition, 98; of tyrant, 392 Ptolemy, 175 Publicola, Publius Valerius, 383 Publicoli, 434 Publius Decius, 422—323 Pulcher, Appius Claudius, 77, 406, 434—335 Punic war, 348, 404 Punishment, 308-309, 381-382, 393-394; of ambition, 56; artificial and natural, 275; by Brutus, 306; capital, 149, 436; for conspiracy, 327, 333; by decimation, 439 —340; of desire to punish, 54; and disobedience, 397, 416; di¬ vine, 166, 419; and election, 145, 279, 440; as

INDEX

exile, 413-314; fear of, 106, 289, 301-304, 325, 328, 356; from God, 171, 331; and ig¬ nominy, 108; and love, 365; of Manlius, 62; necessity of, 260-265, 281, 316, 372; and opinion, 36-37; relief from, 138; and reward, 95-97; of schoolmaster, 374-375; for sin, 276; and spirit, 403; of subjects, 267; terrible, 410 Puppo, Mario, 157n26, 245n23, 344n54 Purges, 53-54, 300, 322 Pyrrhus, 375, 378 Quality, 46, 50, 56, 340, 342-347, 380, 403, 434—135, 439; change in human, 132; man of, 307-308, 310-31 1, 317, 319; qualities of, 134; of rulers, 147 Quantitative methods, 10, 33 Quinctius Claudius, 372-374 Quintianus, 334-335 Quintus Curtius, 216 Rape, 37; as accident, 314-315, 391-392 Rashness, 158, 170, 219 Ravenna, 235-236, 240 Reason, 85-86; and authority, 222, 243-247; or cause, 259-273; and example, 277; human, 36; and opinion, 260; and religion, 77 Receptivity, 1 35, 173-174 Reform, 63, 87, 98 Regeneration, 134, 136 Regime, 53, 207; change in form of, 118; in lan¬ guage, 205n28; mixed, 33, 35; ordering of, 32-62; replaced by system, 140. See also Cycle of regimes Regini, 252 Rcgulus Attilius, Marcus, 246, 303, 389-390 Rehoboam, King, 88 Relief, 273; benefit as, 145; from fear, 174; in future, 179; and gratitude, 110-111; need for, 138; from new name, 126 Religion: catholicity of, 203; Gentile, 73; as human achievement, 282; and modernity, 160-164, 172; pagan, 182, 203; Roman, 28; as rule in someone else’s name, 126; silence on, 234; use of, 69-79; as war, 254 Remus, 65-66 Representation, 11, 66; Christian, 145; by Machiavelli, 8; of other world, 238; political, 232; of provinces, 431 Republics, kinds of, 34 Reputation, 395-397; of founders, 63-69, 153; of new sect, 203 Resistance, 118, 268, 387 Responsibility, 87, 275, 280-281, 435; for ac¬ cusations, 59-62; and cycle of regimes, 38; given to Camillus, 301; human, 38-39; and justice, 254; of Machiavelli, 9, 148; popular,

INDEX

Responsibility (cont.) 149; of Rome for corruption, 259; of Samnites, 428; for weak states, 230 Revelation, 165, 183-184, 256, 283, 338, 385; divine, 421; of ends and means, 327; of mind, 339; of necessity, 42 Reverence, 37, 71, 299, 333-335, 379-381, 389-390, 396; appearance and reality of, 159; as check to plebs, 156; Christian, 158 Revolution, 188, 308 Rhetoric, 247, 31 1 Rhodians, 292 Robbery, 397, 416 Robert, King, 215 Romagna, 162, 223, 397-398 Rrtfnahm.1 ss, 2SC-272 Rome: army of, z32-247, 271-272; beginnings, ^^-^=32^-45^-305; and corruption, 83-84, 87, 90, 259; defeats, 277, 279, 284, 292, 437; em¬ pire, 43, 46, 89, 189-206, 248; end of, 46-48, 386-389; as example, 83, 98, 139, 147-148, 152, 157-161, 250, 440-441; failure of, 207; laws, 84-86, 127, 255; lilxzrty in, 42^43, 45, 53, 1 18, 305; and modernity, 121-122, 151 — 152, 219, 232; orders of, 33-35, 39, 86-88, 1 1 3, 1 15, 137, 301; perfection of, 39, 50, 111, 126-129, 346; power, 1 12, 113, 392; as repub¬ lic, 33, 34, 39, 40-42, 45, 51, 90-91, 107, 1 j7. 182r-486rrt4igjon in. 70-79. 101-and /Samnites, 190, 213-215, 219, 252, 286, 342^ 4^^57-358^418, 431-433, 436;/ubjection of, 206-219; and Tuscans, 190, 202, 208, 294295, 398, 407, 435-436; and Venice, 120. iVc also Decemvir ate; Senate Romulus, King, 63-66, 70-71, 79, 87-88, 95, 305, 308; and Caesar, 68-69; as god, 156; law s of, 147; victories of, 254nl4 Rouen, cardinal of, 351n68 Rousseau, Jean-Jacques, 241 Rubenstein, Nicolai, 302n5 Rucellai, Cosimo, 21, 22n5 Ruin, 74, 100, 390-392, 414-415 Rule, 184, 227 Rutilus, Caius Marcus, 342 Sacrifice, 99n4, 303-304, 309, 316; Christian, 195-196, 234-235; of Decius, 433; and For¬ tune, 287; and glory, 427-428; satisfaction w ith, 98; and taxes, 385 Saguntum, 176, 214 Saint, 307, 31 1. See also under names of specific saints

Sallust, 141-142, 210, 340, 435 Salvation, 1 34, 2 37, 3 1 2, 422 -424 (Sarnnites^92-197, 227-228, 424-428; arms of, blindness of, 422; cavalry of, 245; defeat of, 208; error of, 265, 277; and Greeks, 291;

45 7 obstinacy of, 220-221, 234, 412-413; and re¬ ligion, 77-79; and Romans, 190,213-215, 219, 252, 286, 342, 357-358, 418, 431-433, 436 ’ San Casciano, 390 Saracens, 187 Sasso, Gennaro, 35nn7, 9, 48n45, 87nl(), 164n38 Saticula, 245n23 Satisfaction, 46, 50, 67, 98 Saturninus, 335 Savonarola, Girolamo, 21n 1, 41n29, 70; anti armed men in the air, 165-167; modern poli¬ tics of, 131; and Pacuvius, 145-146; party of, 55-56, 159, 383; reordering of Florence by, 72; sermons of, 136-138, 237, 400, 431 Scaevinus, 325-326 Scaevola, Mutius, 97 Scandals, 46, 61, 393; general, 263; persistence of, 124-125; smothering, 250 Scholasticism, 299, 432 Schoolmaster, Faliscian, 374-376 Science, 93, 421 —424, 431; of conspiracies, 318; of Machiavelli, 8; and prudence, 412. See also Classical political science; Political science Scipio Africanus Major, P. Cornelius, 222, 359, 375-379; accusation of, 301; in Africa, 290291, 348-349, 352-35 3, 382; appeal to people by, 158-159; and forced oath, 70; glory of, 410—411; ingratitude to, 105-106, 172; in¬ vented l>oast by, 402; Rome’s use of, 178 Scipio, Gnaeus, 359 Scythians, 213 Sects, 55-56, 60-61, 202-206, 299-300 Security, 304-307, 393, 433; from fear, 360; in hills, 370-371; and liberty, 82-84, 102-103, 309, 438; and majesty, 426—427; of prince, 262, 312-314; trust in, 94; and victories, 407; worldly, 86 Self-defense, 91, 142-143, 400, 418, 430; form of human l>odies in, 237; necessity for, 358; obstinate, 246; spirit of, 205, 213. See also De¬ fense Self-examination, 301 -302 Self-government, 372. See also Government Self-interest, 395, 411. See also Interest Self-knowledge, 372, 431. See also Knowledge Self-respect, 145 Self-sufficiency, 142-143, 267-268; of city 38; domestic, 187; of multitude, 245 Selim I (Grand l urk), 31-32, 89, 106, 242, 322, 413 Semiramis, 362 Sempronius, Publius, 435 Sempronius Gracchus, 359 Senate, 41-42, 109, 117, 124, 150, 355, 398; necessity of, 145; and people, 52, 12 1 , 125, 128, 129-131, 135-136, 161

458 Sermon, 68, 128, 197-199, 260-263, 304, 350; of Cicero, 44; of Savonarola, 136-138, 237, 400, 431 Servius Tullius, 148, 312-314, 338 Severity, 308-310, 312-31 3, 316, 373, 379, 383-384, 393, 410 Severus, Septimius, Emperor, 68, 335 Sforza, Francesco Maria, 268, 339 Shame, 147, 289, 427-428, 430-431 Shepherd, 99-100, 156, 281,424-425, 436-437; conspiracy of, 439; disguise as, 294 Shopping, for property, 122 Sibylline books, 75-76 Sicily, 158, 214, 222, 296, 319, 345, 365-366, 439 Sicinius, 44 Sickness, 26-27, 440-441. See also Doctor Sicyon, 291-292, 317 Sidicini, 213-214, 219-221, 227 Siege, 123, 125, 283, 290-293, 424 Siena, 255, 272, 337 Sight, 307-308 Sign, 165, 299, 302 Signoria, 125 Silence, 1 1, 325-326, 415; and ambition, 363; and execution, 335, 347; of Fabius, 436; of God, 322; of Fivy, 219; of Machiavelli, 54, 206n29, 400, 427; pregnant, 10; on religion, 234; of Savonarola, 137 Sin, 53, 108, 134, 279-280, 331, 397, 440; against a state, 262; in defense of fatherland, 426; excuse for, 171; fear of, 174; of Italian princes, 244; original, 31, 63, 109, 122; punishment for, 276 Sisyphus, 185 Sitalces, 333 Site, 216, 291, 421, 431; choice of, 30-32; knowledge of, 412; nature of, 242 Sixtus IV, Pope, 269 Slavery, 197, 200, 276 Sleep, 121, 190-191, 416 Sociability, natural, 375 Socrates, 307-308, 31 1, 382, 386, 422 Soderini, Francesco, 159 Soderini, Pagolantonio, 159 Soderini, Piero, 34, 165-166, 309-312, 344, 400; accident to, 56; humanity and patience of, 348-350; and the people, 153-155, 158, 278, 320 Solomon, 88-89 Solon, 40, 66, 71, 104, 127, 217, 222 Sophy (of Persia), 413 Sora, 245 Soul, 36, 146, 236-237, 381-382, 403; and airy intelligences, 165n43; and body, 43; and fatherland, 298; substitute for, 133; virtue of, 345 Sovereign, 50, 150

INDEX

Spain, 21 1, 322, 370, 410; army of, 56; Claudio in, 368-369; corruption in, 160-161; and Florence, 278; and Ravenna, 235, 240; rebel¬ lion of, 354; and Saguntum, 176, 214; Scipio in, 359, 375-377; unity of, 74 Sparta, 48-53, 198; and Alexander, 216-219; authority in, 117; Cleomenes in, 63, 66; ex¬ pansion of, 200-202; liberty in, 118; Fycurgus and, 33, 39—10, 104; Nabis in, 130, 328, 344; nobles in, 45-47, 183, 194; pride of, 365; quiet of, 250; and Thebes, 91-92, 336, 341, 359-360; wise prince of, 170; and women, 270-271 Species, 396, 398 Speech, 41 —42, 337, 419-122, 435; betrayal by, 335; of Cincinnatus, 406-407; and claims to rule, 43; in classical political philosophy, 50-51; and common good, 410-411; defect of, 380; on disobedience, 416; evil, 302-304; and human dignity, 276; inspiring, 229, 332; long, 390; as mode of articulating choice, 232; of Nicias, 318; overlooked by Machiavelli, 375, 378; privileges of, 281; promise in, 369; purge by, 322; of shepherds, 436; teaching without, 352; by tongue, 358; used by double virtue, 360 Spirit, 229-232, 322, 331-337, 340-341, 343, 368, 399-407, 410, 412, 420^422, 425; and army, 298, 418; in attack, 223-224; blindness of, 282-285, 287, 300-302, 427; and body, 345; and captain, 361-363; contentious, 143; defensiveness in, 403; defined, 134-135; di¬ versity of, 255-256; falsity of, 132; free and expeditious, 107-108; generosity of, 264; greatness of, 195, 384, 389-390; and heart, 328; of horse, 244-246; and human good, 157; of infantry, 243; and insults, 275; lack of, 311-312; and liberty, 103; loftiness of, 144— 146; loss of, 416; of Machiavelli’s readers, 163; of modernity, 11; of new men, 119; ob¬ stinate, 77-78, 355; popular, 41; public, 306, 396; in resistance, 268, 290; restless, 46; of Romans, 315; of self-defense, 205, 21 3; and silence, 326; of soldiers, 241, 25 1; strength of, 380-381; subtle, 72n8; vigor of, 178-179; in war, 236-238. See also Mind Spurius Cassius, 345 Spurius Melius, 395-397 Statue, 26-27, 71 Steel, 174, 241, 341 Stoicism, 401 Strangulation, 12, 341, 415 Strauss, Feo, 17, 76, 373, 437-—438; criticisms of, 11-12; debt to, 11-13; error of, 380n31 Stupidity, 136, 158; simulated, 305-307, 312 Subjection, 88; and companionship, 200, 249; to fortune, 227; of Machiavelli to others, 9; of Rome, 206-219; unknowing, 135

459

INDEX

Subject matter, 345-347, 350. See also Matter Substance, 347, 396; equality of, 49; of Roman¬ ness, 271-272 Succession, 65, 68, 72, 87-88, 95, 310-311 Suicide, 138, 194n9, 289, 370 Sulla, 29, 102, 116, 346-347, 387 Sulpicius Gneus, 35, 362 Sulpicius Peticus, Gaius, 350-353, 362 Sun, 27-28, 91, 188, 286-287, 385-386 Supernatural, 57, 164-166, 183 Superstition, 283, 408 Surrender, 38, 292 Swamps, 432 Sw itzerland, 246-250; arms of, 223-225, 242, 257-258, 353, 370; expansion of, 199, 201; as master of modern w ar, 236; mountain passes of, 93; transfer of pope to, 74-75, 225 Syracuse, 22, 83, 168, 171, 230-231, 326, 343 Syria, 212, 413 Tacitus, Cornelius, 104-105, 275, 318-319, 326, 329nn34, 35, 373-386, 391-392, 411 Tameness, 255-256 Tarcov, Nathan, 35n7, 275n4, 308nl0 Tarentum, 221, 270 Iarquinius, Sextus, 315-316 Iarquinius Priscus, 312-314 I arquinius Superbus, 306, 312-317, 325, 340n49 Tarquins, 48-49, 115; and l>cginnings of Rome, 305; and check on nobility, 42-43, 315-316; concealment by, 127; expulsion of, 41-42, 65, 79, 80n4, 343-344, 391; name of, 103; resto¬ ration of, 192n6; and Roman people, 83 Tartars, 213 Teacher, 23, 188; Machiavelli as, 8; of necessity to kill, 163; of philosophy, 191 Technology, military, 238 Teleology, 195 Terentillus, laws of, 75, 126 'Test, 283, 343 Texts, 419, 423 Thebes, 84, 336, 341, 359-360, 420;effeminacy of, 91 Themistocles, 176-177, 289 Theodore, 326 Theodorus, 330 Theology, 164-167, 203, 221, 231-232, 281 282 Theseus, 29, 31 Thessaly, 175 Thrace, 333 Thrasybulus, 336 Thucydides, 39, 158n28, 194, 218-219, 289n23, 335-336, 365-366 Thymos, 158, 238 l iber, 200 Tiberius Gracchus, 275

Tigranes, 249 Timasitheus, 397-398 Time, 41, 331, 400, 432 Timoleon, 83, 317 Title. See Name Titus Tatius, king, 63, 66 Tongue, 358, 380 Torture, 330 Trade, 161-164, 198 Tragedy, 54, 179, 309 Tribute, 249-251, 285-287 Truth, 41, 141, 153, 393-394, 430; and lieauty, 280-281; about beginnings, 227; of Church’s neutrality, 258; deliberations contrary to, 257; difficulty of knowing, 410; effectual, 82, 132, 138, 142, 173-174, 205-206, 31 1, 355, 376, 435; factual, 389; and fiction, 362-363; historical, 423; and jesting, 275-276; of natural and supernatural things, 165, 256— 257; opinions contrary to, 248; reasons for¬ eign to, 260; recognition of, 145; speaking the, 264-265;truest, 91,95, 130, 196, 245; as unchangeable, 299 l ullus Hostilius, 88, 90-95, 134, 148 Tumult, 43, 47, 50-51, 74 Turkey, 88-89, 187. See also Bajazet II; Selim 1 (( b and l urk) Tuscans, 57, 224; armed men in the air seen by, 165; arms of, 91; as brothers, 255-256; equality among, 162; and Ktruscans, 199—

202, 272-274; and French, 210-213, 279,429; hatred of, 356; and Juno, 203; language of,

235, 2 38; Porscnna and, 97; power of, 206; reliance of, 305; and Romans, 190, 208, 294295, 398, 407, 435-436; and Samnites, 431 — 433; Valentino and, 123; and Veientes, 192-

193 Tutelage, 157-158, 206 Tyranny, 314-317, 327; and ancient writers, 318; of Appius, 135; attractions of, 67; avoidance of, 1 33n40; cause of, 129; dangers of, 341; excuse for, 171; over human bodies, 237; and lilierty, 193-194; Machiavelli’s in¬ citement to, 23; of new prince, 97-101 Tyrant, 307-308, 321; advice to, 127; inhi¬ bitions of, 12; prince as, 139; and women, 391-392 Tyre, 277-278 Ultramontane, 192, 240, 249 Unity, 49, 73, 392-393; in l>ody, 365; exhorta¬ tion to, 74; government in, 395; for ruin, 414; of soldiers, 406 Universality, 40, 54-55, 80-81, 109, 279-281, 344, 408; consent of, 310; disappointment of, 125; favored by Piero Soderini, 153; friend¬ ship of, 130; good of, 257; hatred by, 320; nourishment of, 98; and paradise, 195; virtue of, 84

460 “Upside down,” 121-122, 151-152, 247 Urbino, 217, 268, 27! Utica, 291 Utility, 385, 390, 393-394; of ancient orders, 249; and beauty, 11-12, 134, 270; of calum¬ nies, 61; common, 37, 148-149, 409-410; to fatherland, 399; and honor, 67; and insults, 273-274; judgment of, 423; for Machiavelli’s readers, 28; and necessity, 369, 381; of pov¬ erty, 388; public, 387; of religion, 69-79; of siege, 290; of texts, 419; and truth, 200-201; universal, 433; of women, 283-284 Uzzano, Niccolo da, 112, 153 Val di Chiana, 343 Valentino, Duke, 123 Valerius Corvinus, 135n43, 178-179, 190, 275, 379, 381-387, 410, 418-420, 422 Valerius Publius Ruberius, 76, 103, 159 Valori, Francesco, 55-56 Vandals, 211-212 Varro, 108, 157 Veii, 156, 166-167, 284, 357-358, 363; siege of, 208-210, 290-291; spoils from, 160, 384-385, 397; and Tuscans, 192-194, 271-274 Velia, 103n3 Venice, 45-53, 285-286, 371; appeals in, 147149; under attack, 156; authority in, 114, 117, 119; beginnings of, 29, 31; conspiracy of Italy against, 354-356; disarmament of, 296; fail¬ ure of, 229nl5, 240; harmful acquisitions of, 250; liberty in, 118; loss of power by, 217; neutrality of, 432; prudent citizens of, 150; and Rome, 120; story of, 383-384; and trade, 164; and l yre, 277; vileness of spirit in, 402-403 Verona, 429 Vespasian, 105 Vetius Messius, 357 Via Nuovo, 165 Vice, 132, 135 Villari, Pasquale, 28nl Virgil, 92, 159, 266 Virginia, 128, 135, 168, 314, 391-392 Virginius, 1 35, 1 37, 168 Virtue: ancient and modern, 187; of builder, 30; double, 360; moral, 375; and the multitude, 364-411; of people, 171; as protection against fear, 140; resistance of matter to, 118; selfcentered, 179; show of, 241; and vice, 132, 135 Visconti, 429; Filippo Maria, 271 Visibility of government, 149

INDEX

Vitelli, 269 Volscii, 57, 357-358, 361, 371, 390, 407 Volterra, Antonio da, 335 Walker, Leslie J., 17; invaluable researches of, 7 Warfare, 15, 185, 206-209, 210-212, 216-219; civil, 360 Weakness, 181-182, 195, 220, 228, 232 Weaving, 284-285 West, 206-207, 320 Whitfield, J. H., 35n6, 68n9, 69nl2, 87nlO, 321n24 Whole, 47, 251, 355, 361, 395, 434—435, 439440; army as, 370; constitution of, 241-242; of Discourses, 10; know ledge of, 422; mankind as, 73; republic as, 349-350 W horing, 391-392, 416 Wickedness, 74, 96-97, 101, 117, 323, 333, 345-347, 397 Wine, 97, 200, 211 Wisdom, 168, 275, 305-306, 308; and contri¬ vance, 63-64; and goodness, 365; of mul¬ titude, 168; in one, 129; reputation for, 408409; worldly, 21 n 1, 401 Wolin, Sheldon S., 345n56 Women, 46n39, 160; advice of, 71; of Athens, 270-271; as cause of ruin, 390-392; and con¬ spiracy, 325, 329-331, 338-339, 439; dis¬ honor to, 321; and French, 415-416; as queens, 313; security of, 371; utility of, 283 — 284. See also Effeminacy Wonder, 179 World: corruptibility of, 299 Worldly things, 21, 125 Writer: Machiavelli as, 279, 412; Xenophon as, 226 Waiters, 67, 1 13, 169, 335, 382, 424; ancient, 297, 317-318, 421; authority of, 352-353; battles among, 258; failure of, 378-379; of fic¬ tion, 226, 262-263, 401; free, 67-68, 186, 308, 340; influence of, 201, 331; medieval, 318; praise of, 375; techniques of, 68 Writing, 294, 329-330, 340, 372, 385 Xenophon, 226-227, 318, 375, 382-383; Cyropaideia, 34n3, 27In 16, 421^123; On Tyranny, 194 Xerxes, 289 Youth, 237, 348, 415-417, 430; of Decius, 433; discourses addressed to, 189; noble, 142; trust in, 177-180

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Machiavellis New Modes and Orders Designed by Richard Rosenbaum. Composed by The Composing Room of Michigan, Inc. in 10 point Janson, 2 points leaded, w ith display lines in Janson. Printed offset by Thomson/Shore, Inc. on Warren’s Olde Style Wove, 60 pound basis. Bound by John II. Dekker and Sons, Inc. in I Iolliston lx>ok cloth and stamped in All Purpose foils.

Library of Congress Cataloging in Publication Data

Mansfield, Harvey C 1932Machiavelli’s new modes and orders. Includes index. 1. Machiavelli, Niccolo, 3. Political science—Early prima deca di Tito Livio. JC143.M163 1979 ISBN 0-8014-1182-3

1469-1527. Discorsi sopra la prima deca di Tito Livio. 2. Livius, Titus. works to 1700. I. Machiavelli, Niccolo, 1469-1527. Discorsi sopra la English. 1979. II. Title. 320.1 79-12380