What I should most have wished, judges, was that Publius Sulla had been able to keep the splendour of his standing as it once was, and after the disaster he suffered to gather some fruit from his moderation. But since hostile chance has fallen out so that at the height of his honour he was overthrown by the common odium that attaches to canvassing and by the singular hatred of Autronius, and since amid these wretched and battered remains of his former fortune he still has men whose temper not even his ruin could glut — though I take great heaviness of mind from his troubles, yet among my other griefs I bear with patience that an occasion has been given me on which good men may recognize a mildness and mercy in me once familiar to them all, now as it were laid aside, and on which the wicked and ruined citizens, mastered and beaten, will admit that with the commonwealth tottering I was vehement and brave, and with the commonwealth saved gentle and merciful.

maxime vellem, iudices, ut P. Sulla et antea dignitatis suae splendorem obtinere et post calamitatem acceptam modestiae fructum aliquem percipere potuisset. sed quoniam ita tulit casus infestus ut in amplissimo honore cum communi ambitionis invidia tum singulari Autroni odio everteretur, et in his pristinae fortunae reliquiis miseris et adflictis tamen haberet quosdam quorum animos ne supplicio quidem suo satiare posset, quamquam ex huius incommodis magnam animo molestiam capio, tamen in ceteris malis facile patior oblatum mihi tempus esse in quo boni viri lenitatem meam misericordiamque, notam quondam omnibus, nunc quasi intermissam agnoscerent, improbi ac perditi cives domiti atque victi praecipitante re publica vehementem me fuisse atque fortem, conservata mitem ac misericordem faterentur.

And since Lucius Torquatus, my close friend and connection, judges, has thought that, if he should violate that intimacy and friendship of ours in his prosecution, he could detract something from the authority of my defence, I shall couple with the warding off of this man’s danger the defence of my own duty. I should certainly not be using this kind of speech now, judges, were the matter mine alone — for in many places the chance has been given me, and will often be given again, of speaking to my own praise. But just as he saw that as much as he stripped from my authority, by so much would he diminish this man’s protection, so I, on my side, judge that if I prove to you the reasoning of my act and the consistency of this duty and defence, I shall also prove the case of Publius Sulla.

et quoniam L. Torquatus, meus familiaris ac necessarius, iudices, existimavit, si nostram in accusatione sua necessitudinem familiaritatemque violasset, aliquid se de auctoritate meae defensionis posse detrahere, cum huius periculi propulsatione coniungam defensionem offici mei. quo quidem genere non uterer orationis, iudices, hoc tempore, si mea solum interesset; multis enim locis mihi et data facultas est et saepe dabitur de mea laude dicendi; sed, ut ille vidit, quantum de mea auctoritate deripuisset, tantum se de huius praesidiis deminuturum, sic hoc ego sentio, si mei facti rationem vobis constantiamque huius offici ac defensionis probaro, causam quoque me P. Sullae probaturum.

And first, Lucius Torquatus, this is what I ask of you: why do you set me apart from the rest of the most distinguished men, the leading citizens, in this duty and in the right of defence? What is the reason why what Quintus Hortensius has done, that man most distinguished and most adorned, is not censured by you, but mine is? For if a plot was formed by Publius Sulla to set this city on fire, to extinguish our empire, to wipe out our state, these things should bring me greater grief than they should bring Hortensius, greater hatred toward me; my judgment finally as to who is to be helped in such cases, who attacked, who defended, who deserted, ought to be the weightier. “Just so,” he says; “for it was you who tracked down, you who exposed the conspiracy.”

ac primum abs te illud, L. Torquate, quaero, cur me a ceteris clarissimis viris ac principibus civitatis in hoc officio atque in defensionis iure secernas. quid enim est quam ob rem abs te Q. Hortensi factum, clarissimi viri atque ornatissimi, non reprehendatur, reprehendatur meum? nam, si est initum a P. Sulla consilium inflammandae huius urbis, exstinguendi imperi, delendae civitatis, mihi maiorem hae res dolorem quam Q. Hortensio, mihi maius odium adferre debent, meum denique gravius esse iudicium, qui adiuvandus in his causis, qui oppugnandus, qui defendendus, qui deserendus esse videatur? ’ ita,’ inquit; ’tu enim investigasti, tu patefecisti coniurationem.’

When he says this, he does not consider that the man who exposed it took care that all should see what before had been hidden. So that conspiracy, if it has been exposed through me, is as exposed to Hortensius as it is to me. And when you see him — a man endowed with such honour, authority, virtue, and judgment — not hesitating to defend the innocence of Publius Sulla, I ask why the path to the case that lay open to Hortensius should have been shut off to me. I ask this too: if you think that I, who am defending him, should be censured, what then do you think of these greatest of men, these most distinguished citizens, by whose zeal and dignity you see this trial honoured, this case adorned, this man’s innocence defended? For there is not just one mode of defence, the one set out in a speech: all who attend, who are anxious, who wish him saved, defend him each in his own measure of standing.

quod cum dicit,non attendit eum qui patefecerit hoc curasse, ut id omnes viderent quod antea fuisset occultum. qua re ista coniuratio, si patefacta per me est, tam patet Hortensio quam mihi. quem cum videas hoc honore, auctoritate, virtute, consilio praeditum non dubitasse quin innocentiam P. Sullae defenderet, quaero cur qui aditus ad causam Hortensio patuerit mihi interclusus esse debuerit; quaero illud etiam, si me, qui defendo, reprehendendum putas esse, quid tandem de his existimes summis viris et clarissimis civibus, quorum studio et dignitate celebrari hoc iudicium, ornari causam, defendi huius innocentiam vides. non enim una ratio est defensionis ea quae posita est in oratione; omnes qui adsunt, qui laborant, qui salvum volunt, pro sua parte atque auctoritate defendunt.

Or was I, when I saw on these benches the ornaments and lights of the commonwealth, to be unwilling to appear among them — I, who climbed up to that very place, to this most exalted seat of dignity and honour, by my own great labours and dangers? And so that you may understand, Torquatus, whom you accuse, in case it offends you that I, who have defended no one in this kind of trial, do not fail Publius Sulla, recall who else are present in his support: you will see that my judgment in his case and in the others, and theirs, has been one and the same.

an vero, in quibus subselliis haec ornamenta ac lumina rei publicae viderem, in his me apparere nollem, cum ego illum in locum atque in hanc excelsissimam sedem dignitatis atque honoris multis meis ac magnis laboribus et periculis ascendissem? atque ut intellegas, Torquate, quem accuses, si te forte id offendit quod ego, qui in hoc genere quaestionis defenderim neminem, non desim P. Sullae, recordare de ceteris quos adesse huic vides; intelleges et de hoc et de aliis iudicium meum et horum par atque unum fuisse.

Which of us stood by Vargunteius? No one — not even this Quintus Hortensius, who alone had previously defended him on a charge of canvassing. For he no longer thought himself bound by any duty to that man, since by committing so great a crime he had broken the bond of all duties. Which of us thought that Servius Sulla, that Publius, that Marcus Laeca, that Gaius Cornelius should be defended? Which of us stood by them? No one. Why? Because in other cases good men do not think that even guilty men, if they are connections, should be deserted; in this charge, however, the fault is not only one of fickleness but there is even a sort of contagion of crime, if you defend a man whom you suspect of being bound by parricide of the fatherland.

quis nostrum adfuit Vargunteio? nemo, ne hic quidem Q. Hortensius, praesertim qui illum solus antea de ambitu defendisset. non enim iam se ullo officio cum illo coniunctum arbitrabatur, cum ille tanto scelere commisso omnium officiorum societatem diremisset. quis nostrum Serv. Sullam, quis Publium, quis M. Laecam, quis C. Cornelium defendendum putavit, quis eis horum adfuit? nemo. quid ita? quia ceteris in causis etiam nocentis viri boni, si necessarii sunt, deserendos esse non putant; in hoc crimine non solum levitatis est culpa verum etiam quaedam contagio sceleris, si defendas eum quem obstrictum esse patriae parricidio suspicere.

What of Autronius? Did not his comrades, his colleagues, his old friends, of whom he once had had abundance, did not all the leading men of the commonwealth fail him? Indeed many of them even injured him by their evidence. They had judged that the wickedness was such as not only ought not to be hidden by them, but rather to be opened up and brought into the light. So why is there anything to wonder at if you see me present in this case among the same men with whom you understand I was absent in the others? Unless, indeed, you wish me alone, beyond the rest, to be thought savage, harsh, inhuman, endowed with a singular barbarity and cruelty.

quid? Autronio nonne sodales, non conlegae sui, non veteres amici, quorum ille copia quondam abundarat, non hi omnes qui sunt in re publica principes defuerunt? immo etiam testimonio plerique laeserunt. statuerant tantum illud esse maleficium quod non modo non occultari per se sed etiam aperiri inlustrarique deberet. quam ob rem quid est quod mirere, si cum isdem me in hac causa vides adesse cum quibus in ceteris intellegis afuisse? Nisi vero me unum vis ferum praeter ceteros, me asperum, me inhumanum existimari, me singulari immanitate et crudelitate praeditum.

If you fix this character on me for the whole of my life, Torquatus, on account of my actions, you are very wrong indeed. By nature I am merciful, by my country’s call severe; cruel, neither my country nor my nature would have me. The very vehement and harsh character which the time and the commonwealth then forced on me, my own will and very nature have already laid aside. For that called for severity for a brief time; this calls for mercy and mildness for the whole of life.

hanc mihi tu si propter meas res gestas imponis in omni vita mea, Torquate, personam, vehementer erras. me natura misericordem, patria severum, crudelem nec patria nec natura esse voluit; denique istam ipsam personam vehementem et acrem quam mihi tum tempus et res publica imposuit iam voluntas et natura ipsa detraxit. illa enim ad breve tempus severitatem postulavit, haec in omni vita misericordiam lenitatemque desiderat.

There is therefore no reason for you to drag me alone away out of so great a company of the most distinguished men. The duty is single, and the cause of all good men one and the same. There will be nothing for you to wonder at hereafter if in that quarter where you have noticed these you will see me also. For there is no cause of mine private to me in the commonwealth: a time for action was more peculiarly mine than the rest’s, but the cause of grief and fear and danger was for all of us in common. Nor could I then have been the leader of our salvation, had others not been willing to be my companions. So what was peculiarly mine as consul, beyond the others, must now, as a private man, be common to me with the rest. Nor do I say this to share the odium, but to share the praise: I impart to no one a part of my burden, to all good men a share of the glory.

qua re nihil est quod ex tanto comitatu virorum amplissimorum me unum abstrahas; simplex officium atque una bonorum est omnium causa. nihil erit quod admirere posthac, si in ea parte in qua hos animum adverteris me videbis. nulla est enim in re publica mea causa propria; tempus agendi fuit mihi magis proprium quam ceteris, doloris vero et timoris et periculi fuit illa causa communis; neque enim ego tunc princeps ad salutem esse potuissem, si esse alii comites noluissent. qua re necesse est, quod mihi consuli praecipuum fuit praeter alios, id iam privato cum ceteris esse commune. neque ego hoc partiendae invidiae, sed communicandae laudis causa loquor; oneris mei partem nemini impertio, gloriae bonis omnibus.

“You gave evidence against Autronius,” he says; “you defend Sulla.” This whole charge is of the kind, judges, that, if I am inconstant and frivolous, neither should credit have been given to my evidence nor authority to my defence; but if there is in me regard for the commonwealth, scruple in private duty, zeal for keeping the goodwill of good men, the prosecutor’s last word should be that Sulla is being defended by me, that Autronius was injured by my testimony. For I see now that I bring not only zeal for defending cases, but some weight of opinion and authority too. This I shall use moderately, judges, and should not be using at all if he had not driven me to it.

’ in Autronium testimonium dixisti,’ inquit; ’Sullam defendis.’ hoc totum eius modi est, iudices, ut, si ego sum inconstans ac levis, nec testimonio fidem tribui convenerit nec defensioni auctoritatem; sin est in me ratio rei publicae, religio privati offici, studium retinendae voluntatis bonorum, nihil minus accusator debet dicere quam a me defendi Sullam, testimonio laesum esse Autronium. videor enim iam non solum studium ad defendendas causas verum etiam opinionis aliquid et auctoritatis adferre; qua ego et moderate utar, iudices, et omnino non uterer, si ille me non coegisset.

Two conspiracies, Torquatus, are set up by you: one which is said to have been formed in the consulship of Lepidus and Volcatius, when your father was consul-designate; the other in mine. In each of these you say Sulla was involved. As to your father’s, that bravest of men and best of consuls, you know I had no part in his counsels; you know that, although I was on the most familiar terms with you, yet I had no share in those proceedings or those discussions — because, I take it, I was not yet deeply involved in public life, because I had not yet attained the goal of office I had set myself, because canvassing and forensic work drew me away from all such reflection.

duae coniurationes abs te, Torquate, constituuntur, una quae Lepido et Volcatio consulibus patre tuo consule designato facta esse dicitur, altera quae me consule; harum in utraque Sullam dicis fuisse. Patris tui, fortissimi viri atque optimi consulis, scis me consiliis non interfuisse; scis me, cum mihi summus tecum usus esset, tamen illorum expertem temporum et sermonum fuisse, credo quod nondum penitus in re publica versabar, quod nondum ad propositum mihi finem honoris perveneram, quod me ambitio et forensis labor ab omni illa cogitatione abstrahebat.

Who, then, took part in your counsels? All these men whom you see attending here, and Quintus Hortensius first — he, both because of his standing and dignity and uncommon spirit toward the commonwealth, and because of his close friendship and high love for your father, was moved as much by the dangers common to all as by the singular dangers of your father. So the charge of that conspiracy has been answered by the man who was present, who knew, who shared your counsel and your fear; and although his speech in beating off this charge was a most copious and most ornate one, yet there was no less authority in it than there was skill. As for that conspiracy, then, which is said to have been formed against you, reported to you, brought to light by you, I could not be a witness: not only have I learned nothing of it firsthand, but the rumour of that suspicion scarcely reached my ears.

quis ergo intererat vestris consiliis? omnes hi quos vides huic adesse et in primis Q. Hortensius; qui cum propter honorem ac dignitatem atque animum eximium in rem publicam, tum propter summam familiaritatem summumque amorem in patrem tuum cum communibus tum praecipuis patris tui periculis commovebatur. ergo istius coniurationis crimen defensum ab eo est qui interfuit, qui cognovit, qui particeps et consili vestri fuit et timoris; cuius in hoc crimine propulsando cum esset copiosissima atque ornatissima oratio, tamen non minus inerat auctoritatis in ea quam facultatis. illius igitur coniurationis quae facta contra vos, delata ad vos, a vobis prolata esse dicitur, ego testis esse non potui; non modo animo nihil comperi, sed vix ad auris meas istius suspicionis fama pervenit.

The men who shared your counsel, who learned of these things together with you, who themselves were thought to be the targets at the time, who did not stand by Autronius, who gave grave evidence against him — these defend this man, stand by him, declare in his danger that they were deterred not by a charge of conspiracy (so that they should be absent from the others) but by the wickedness of those men. The time and charge of my consulship, however, of the greatest conspiracy, will be defended by me. And this division of the defence between us has not been made fortuitously, judges, nor at random; but when we saw that we were being called as patrons in those charges of which we could be witnesses, each of us thought that he should take on himself the part on which he himself could know and judge something.

qui vobis in consilio fuerunt, qui vobiscum illa cognorunt, quibus ipsis periculum tum conflari putabatur, qui Autronio non adfuerunt, qui in illum testimonia gravia dixerunt, hunc defendunt, huic adsunt, in huius periculo declarant se non crimine coniurationis, ne adessent ceteris, sed hominum maleficio deterritos esse. mei consulatus autem tempus et crimen maximae coniurationis a me defendetur. atque haec inter nos partitio defensionis non est fortuito, iudices, nec temere facta; sed cum videremus eorum criminum nos patronos adhiberi quorum testes esse possemus, uterque nostrum id sibi suscipiendum putavit de quo aliquid scire ipse atque existimare potuisset.

And since you have heard Hortensius diligently on the charges of the earlier conspiracy, attend first to this on the conspiracy that was formed in my consulship. Many things, when I was consul, did I hear about the supreme dangers of the commonwealth, many things did I investigate, many things did I learn; never any messenger about Sulla reached me, no informer, no letter, no suspicion. Much weight perhaps that voice ought to carry — the voice of the man who as consul tracked down by his own counsel the plots against the commonwealth, exposed them by truth, avenged them by greatness of spirit — when he says that he heard nothing about Publius Sulla, suspected nothing. But I do not yet use this voice for defending him: I shall use it rather to clear myself, that Torquatus may stop wondering that I, who did not stand by Autronius, defend Sulla.

et quoniam de criminibus superioris coniurationis Hortensium diligenter audistis, de hac coniuratione quae me consule facta est hoc primum attendite. multa, cum essem consul, de summis rei publicae periculis audivi, multa quaesivi, multa cognovi; nullus umquam de Sulla nuntius ad me, nullum indicium, nullae litterae pervenerunt, nulla suspicio. multum haec vox fortasse valere deberet eius hominis qui consul insidias rei publicae consilio investigasset, veritate aperuisset, magnitudine animi vindicasset, cum is se nihil audisse de P. Sulla, nihil suspicatum esse diceret. sed ego nondum utor hac voce ad hunc defendendum; ad purgandum me potius utar, ut mirari Torquatus desinat me qui Autronio non adfuerim Sullam defendere.

For what was Autronius’s case, what is Sulla’s? He sought to break up the canvassing trial first by stirring up a riot of gladiators and runaway slaves, then — as we all saw — by stoning and a rush of mob. Sulla, when his own modesty and dignity were of no help to him, sought no resort. The other, once condemned, conducted himself — not only in his counsels and discourse, but in his very face and look — as a man manifestly hostile to the highest orders, dangerous to all good men, an enemy to his country. This man thought himself so broken and beaten by that disaster that he reckoned nothing remained to him of his former dignity except what he had kept by his own modesty.

quae enim Autroni fuit causa, quae Sullae est? ille ambitus iudicium tollere ac disturbare primum conflato voluit gladiatorum ac fugitivorum tumultu, deinde, id quod vidimus omnes, lapidatione atque concursu; Sulla, si sibi suus pudor ac dignitas non prodesset, nullum auxilium requisivit. ille damnatus ita se gerebat non solum consiliis et sermonibus verum etiam aspectu atque voltu ut inimicus esse amplissimis ordinibus, infestus bonis omnibus, hostis patriae videretur; hic se ita fractum illa calamitate atque adflictum putavit ut nihil sibi ex pristina dignitate superesse arbitraretur, nisi quod modestia retinuisset.

In this present conspiracy, what was so close as that man’s bond with Catiline, with Lentulus? What partnership in the best things has any men joined together so close as theirs in crime, in lust, in audacity? What infamy did Lentulus conceive without Autronius? What deed did Catiline commit without that same man? Meanwhile Sulla with these men sought neither night nor solitude, but did not even join them in ordinary speech and meeting.

hac vero in coniuratione quid tam coniunctum quam ille cum Catilina, cum Lentulo? quae tanta societas ullis inter se rerum optimarum quanta ei cum illis sceleris, libidinis, audaciae? quod flagitium Lentulus non cum Autronio concepit? quod sine eodem illo Catilina facinus admisit? cum interim Sulla cum isdem illis non modo noctem solitudinemque non quaereret sed ne mediocri quidem sermone et congressu coniungeretur.

Him the Allobroges, those most truthful informers in the gravest of matters, him the letters and messages of many men convicted; Sulla meanwhile no one accused, no one named. Lastly, when Catiline had been driven out — or had been let out — of the city, that man sent arms, horns, trumpets, fasces, standards, legions; left behind within the walls, awaited from outside, hemmed in only by the punishment of Lentulus, he turned at last to fear, never to sanity. This man on the contrary kept so quiet that for the whole of that time he was at Naples — where men involved in this kind of suspicion are not thought to have been, and where the place itself is more suited to consoling broken spirits than to inflaming them. Therefore, on account of this great unlikeness of men and of cases, I have shown myself unlike in each.

illum Allobroges, maximarum rerum verissimi indices, illum multorum litterae ac nuntii coarguerunt; Sullam interea nemo insimulavit, nemo nominavit. postremo eiecto sive emisso iam ex urbe Catilina ille arma misit, cornua, tubas, fascis, signa, legiones, ille relictus intus, exspectatus foris, Lentuli poena compressus convertit se aliquando ad timorem, numquam ad sanitatem; hic contra ita quievit ut eo tempore omni Neapoli fuerit, ubi neque homines fuisse putantur huius adfines suspicionis et locus est ipse non tam ad inflammandos calamitosorum animos quam ad consolandos accommodatus. propter hanc igitur tantam dissimilitudinem hominum atque causarum dissimilem me in utroque praebui.

For Autronius used to come to me, and used to come often, a suppliant with many tears begging that I would defend him, and recalled that he had been my schoolfellow in boyhood, my familiar in youth, my colleague in the quaestorship. He brought up many services of mine to him, some too of his own to me. By all this, judges, I was so bent and broken in spirit that already I was laying aside the memory of the plots he had made against me, was already forgetting that Gaius Cornelius had been sent by him to butcher me in my own house, in sight of my wife and children. Had he plotted these things against me alone, soft and gentle as I am of disposition, by Hercules I should never have held out against his tears and prayers; but when into my mind there came

veniebat enim ad me et saepe veniebat Autronius multis cum lacrimis supplex ut se defenderem, et se meum condiscipulum in pueritia, familiarem in adulescentia, conlegam in quaestura commemorabat fuisse; multa mea in se, non nulla etiam sua in me proferebat officia. quibus ego rebus, iudices, ita flectebar animo atque frangebar ut iam ex memoria quas mihi ipsi fecerat insidias deponerem, ut iam immissum esse ab eo C. Cornelium qui me in meis sedibus, in conspectu uxoris ac liberorum meorum trucidaret obliviscerer. quae si de uno me cogitasset, qua mollitia sum animi ac lenitate, numquam me hercule illius lacrimis ac precibus restitissem; sed cum mihi patriae,

the danger of my country, of you all, of this city, of those shrines and temples, of children at the breast, of matrons and maidens, and when those hostile and deadly torches and the universal fire of the whole city, when the weapons, when the slaughter, when the blood of citizens, when the ash of my country began to play before my eyes and to chafe my mind by memory, then at last I withstood him — and not only that enemy and parricide but also those connections of his, the Marcelli, father and son, of whom the one held in my eyes the gravity of a parent, the other the sweetness of a son. Nor did I think it possible without supreme wickedness to defend in another’s accomplice, when I knew it, the same crime which I had punished in others.

cum vestrorum periculorum, cum huius urbis, cum illorum delubrorum atque templorum, cum puerorum infantium, cum matronarum ac virginum veniebat in mentem, et cum illae infestae ac funestae faces universumque totius urbis incendium, cum tela, cum caedes, cum civium cruor, cum cinis patriae versari ante oculos atque animum memoria refricare coeperat, tum denique ei resistebam, neque solum illi hosti ac parricidae sed his etiam propinquis illius, Marcellis, patri et filio, quorum alter apud me parentis gravitatem, alter fili suavitatem obtinebat; neque me arbitrabar sine summo scelere posse, quod maleficium in aliis vindicassem, idem in illorum socio, cum scirem, defendere.

And I, the same man, could not endure Publius Sulla as a suppliant, nor look upon those same Marcelli weeping for this man’s dangers, nor sustain the prayers of his connection Marcus Messala. For neither was the case opposed to nature, nor did either man or matter fight against my mercy. Nowhere had there been a name, nowhere a trace, no charge, no informer’s word, no suspicion. I took the case up, Torquatus, I took it up, and gladly — so that I, whom good men, as I hope, have always thought consistent, should not even by the wicked be called cruel.

atque idem ego neque P. Sullam supplicem ferre, neque eosdem Marcellos pro huius periculis lacrimantis aspicere, neque huius M. Messalae, hominis necessarii, preces sustinere potui; neque enim est causa adversata naturae, nec homo nec res misericordiae meae repugnavit. nusquam nomen, nusquam vestigium fuerat, nullum crimen, nullum indicium, nulla suspicio. suscepi causam, Torquate, suscepi, et feci libenter ut me, quem boni constantem, ut spero, semper existimassent, eundem ne improbi quidem crudelem dicerent.

Here our friend says, judges, that he cannot endure my kingship. What kingship, pray, Torquatus? My consulship, I take it: in which I commanded nothing and on the contrary obeyed the senators and all good men. In that magistracy a kingship was not, you know, set up by me, but put down. Or do you say that, having so great an empire, so great a power, I was no king then, but say I am king now as a private man? On what title, pray? “Because the men against whom you gave evidence have been condemned; the man you defend hopes to be acquitted.” Here on the matter of my testimony I make you this answer: if I lied, that you spoke against the same men too; but if I told the truth, then it is no kingship, when you say what is true on oath, to make it stick. About this man’s hope I say only this: Publius Sulla expects from me no resources, no power, nothing in fact except the good faith of his defence.

hic ait se ille, iudices, regnum meum ferre non posse. quod tandem, Torquate, regnum? consulatus, credo, mei; in quo ego imperavi nihil et contra patribus conscriptis et bonis omnibus parui; quo in magistratu non institutum est videlicet a me regnum, sed repressum. an tum in tanto imperio, tanta potestate non dicis me fuisse regem, nunc privatum regnare dicis? quo tandem nomine? ’ quod, in quos testimonia dixisti,’ inquit, ’damnati sunt; quem defendis, sperat se absolutum iri.’ hic tibi ego de testimoniis meis hoc respondeo, si falsum dixerim, te in eosdem dixisse; sin verum, non esse hoc regnare, cum verum iuratus dicas, probare. de huius spe tantum dico, nullas a me opes P. Sullam, nullam potentiam, nihil denique praeter fidem defensionis exspectare.

“If you had not taken the case,” he says, “he would never have stood up to me, but would have fled without trial.” Even if I were to grant you this — that Quintus Hortensius, a man of such weight, that men like these stand not by their own judgment but by mine; even if I were to give you what cannot be believed, that, had I not stood by him, these men would not have stood by him — which of us is the king, the man whom innocent men do not resist, or the man who does not desert the disaster-stricken? But here also (a thing it was very far from necessary for you to do) you wished to be witty, when you said that Tarquin and Numa and I, third, were foreign kings. I let go now the question of king; I ask why you said that I was a foreigner. For if I am, it is less to be wondered at that I am king (since, as you say, two foreign kings have already been at Rome) than that I have been consul at Rome as a foreigner. “This is what I say,” he says: “that you are from a country town.”

’Nisi tu,’ inquit, ’causam recepisses, numquam mihi restitisset, sed indicta causa profugisset.’ si iam hoc tibi concedam, Q. Hortensium, tanta gravitate hominem, si hos talis viros non suo stare iudicio, sed meo; si hoc tibi dem quod credi non potest, nisi ego huic adessem, hos adfuturos non fuisse, uter tandem rex est, isne cui innocentes homines non resistunt, an is qui calamitosos non deserit? at hic etiam, id quod tibi necesse minime fuit, facetus esse voluisti, cum Tarquinium et Numam et me tertium peregrinum regem esse dixisti. Mitto iam de rege quaerere; illud quaero peregrinum cur me esse dixeris. nam si ita sum, non tam est admirandum regem esse me, quoniam, ut tu ais, duo iam peregrini reges Romae fuerunt, quam consulem Romae fuisse peregrinum. ’ hoc dico,’ inquit, ’te esse ex municipio.’

I admit it, and I add: from that country town from which now for the second time salvation has been sent to this city and empire. But I should much like to learn from you why those who come from country towns seem to you foreigners. No one ever flung that at the elder Marcus Cato, though he had the most enemies, no one at Tiberius Coruncanius, no one at Manius Curius, no one at this our own Gaius Marius, though many envied him. For my part I am vehemently glad to be a man at whom you, however much you may have wished, could throw no insult that does not fit a very great part of the citizens. But yet I think that, on account of the great cause of our connection, you must again and again be warned by me. All cannot be patricians; if you ask the truth, they do not even care; nor do those of your own age think themselves outdone by you on that account.

fateor et addo etiam:ex eo municipio unde iterum iam salus huic urbi imperioque missa est. sed scire ex te pervelim quam ob rem qui ex municipiis veniant peregrini tibi esse videantur. nemo istuc M. illi Catoni seni, cum plurimos haberet inimicos, nemo Ti. Coruncanio, nemo M’. Curio, nemo huic ipsi nostro C. Mario, cum ei multi inviderent, obiecit umquam. equidem vehementer laetor eum esse me in quem tu, cum cuperes, nullam contumeliam iacere potueris quae non ad maximam partem civium conveniret. sed tamen te a me pro magnis causis nostrae necessitudinis monendum esse etiam atque etiam puto. non possunt omnes esse patricii; si verum quaeris, ne curant quidem; nec se aequales tui propter istam causam abs te anteiri putant.

And if we seem to you foreigners, whose name and honour have already grown old in this city and in the talk and tongue of men, how must those competitors of yours seem to you foreigners — men now picked from all Italy who will contend with you for office and for every dignity? Take care not to call any of them a foreigner, lest you be buried beneath the votes of foreigners. If they bring sinew and industry, believe me, they will shake out of you that vain show of words, and will rouse you often out of your sleep, and will not suffer themselves to be surpassed by you in office unless they are bested in virtue.

ac si tibi nos peregrini videmur, quorum iam et nomen et honos inveteravit et urbi huic et hominum famae ac sermonibus, quam tibi illos competitores tuos peregrinos videri necesse erit qui iam ex tota Italia delecti tecum de honore ac de omni dignitate contendent! quorum cave tu quemquam peregrinum appelles, ne peregrinorum suffragiis obruare. qui si attulerint nervos et industriam, mihi crede, excutient tibi istam verborum iactationem et te ex somno saepe excitabunt nec patientur se abs te, nisi virtute vincentur, honore superari.

And if, judges, the rest of the patricians ought to think me and you foreigners, yet by Torquatus this fault would be passed over in silence; for he is himself, on his mother’s side, a townsman — of a most respectable and most noble stock, but a townsman of Asculum. Either, then, let him show that the men of Picenum alone are not foreigners, or let him be glad that I do not put my stock above his. Wherefore neither call me a foreigner hereafter, lest you be more grievously refuted, nor a king, lest you be laughed at. Unless perhaps it seems to you kingly so to live as to serve no man, no, not even any desire of one’s own; to despise all lusts; to want neither gold nor silver nor anything else; to think freely in the senate; to consult the people’s interest rather than its will; to yield to no one, to withstand many. If you think this kingly, I confess that I am king. But if it is my power, my dominion, or some arrogant or haughty word that moves you, why do you not bring it forth, rather than the odium of the term and the insult of bad-mouthing?

ac si, iudices, ceteris patriciis me et vos peregrinos videri oporteret, a Torquato tamen hoc vitium sileretur; est enim ipse a materno genere municipalis, honestissimi ac nobilissimi generis, sed tamen Asculani. aut igitur doceat Picentis solos non esse peregrinos aut gaudeat suo generi me meum non anteponere. qua re neque tu me peregrinum posthac dixeris, ne gravius refutere, neque regem, ne derideare. Nisi forte regium tibi videtur ita vivere ut non modo homini nemini sed ne cupiditati quidem ulli servias, contemnere omnis libidines, non auri, non argenti, non ceterarum rerum indigere, in senatu sentire libere, populi utilitati magis consulere quam voluntati, nemini cedere, multis obsistere. si hoc putas esse regium, regem me esse confiteor; sin te potentia mea, si dominatio, si denique aliquod dictum adrogans aut superbum movet, quin tu id potius profers quam verbi invidiam contumeliamque maledicti?

If, having laid such great services before the commonwealth, I were to demand of the senate and Roman people no other reward but honourable leisure, who would not grant it? Let the rest have for themselves their honours, their commands, their provinces, their triumphs, their other ornaments of distinguished praise; let it be permitted me, with quiet and tranquil mind, to enjoy the sight of the city which I had saved. What if I do not even demand this? What if my old labour, my anxiety, my services, my works, my watchings, are at the service of friends, are ready for all? What if neither friends miss my zeal in the Forum nor the commonwealth in the Senate-house; if not only no exemption on the score of my deeds, but no excuse of office or of age releases me from labour; if my goodwill, my industry, my house, my mind, my ears are open to all; if not even time is left me for the recollection and contemplation of those things I did for the safety of all — yet shall this be called a kingship, of which a man willing to be the deputy can nowhere be found?

ego, tantis a me beneficiis in re publica positis, si nullum aliud mihi praemium ab senatu populoque Romano nisi honestum otium postularem, quis non concederet? ceteri sibi haberent honores, sibi imperia, sibi provincias, sibi triumphos, sibi alia praeclarae laudis insignia; mihi liceret eius urbis quam conservassem conspectu tranquillo animo et quieto frui. quid si hoc non postulo? si ille labor meus pristinus, si sollicitudo, si officia, si operae, si vigiliae deserviunt amicis, praesto sunt omnibus; si neque amici in foro requirunt studium meum neque res publica in curia; si me non modo non rerum gestarum vacatio sed neque honoris neque aetatis excusatio vindicat a labore; si voluntas mea, si industria, si domus, si animus, si aures patent omnibus; si mihi ne ad ea quidem quae pro salute omnium gessi recordanda et cogitanda quicquam relinquitur temporis: tamen hoc regnum appellabitur, cuius vicarius qui velit esse inveniri nemo potest?

Far, far is the suspicion of kingship from me. If you ask who at Rome have tried to seize a kingship, that you may not have to unroll the memory of the annals, you will find them in the portraits of your own house. For my deeds, I take it, have lifted me up too high and inspired me with I-know-not-what proud spirits! Of those deeds, judges, so glorious, so immortal, this much I can say: that I, having rescued this city and the lives of all citizens out of the supreme dangers, shall have had reward enough if from this so great service to all mortals no danger comes back upon me.

longe abest a me regni suspicio; si quaeris qui sint Romae regnum occupare conati, ut ne replices annalium memoriam, ex domesticis imaginibus invenies. res enim gestae, credo, meae me nimis extulerunt ac mihi nescio quos spiritus attulerunt. quibus de rebus tam claris, tam immortalibus, iudices, hoc possum dicere, me qui ex summis periculis eripuerim urbem hanc et vitam omnium civium satis adeptum fore, si ex hoc tanto in omnis mortalis beneficio nullum in me periculum redundarit.

For I remember in what state I did such great deeds, I understand in what city I am living. The Forum is full of those men whom I drove from your necks, judges, but did not put away from my own. Unless indeed you think that there were few who could attempt or hope to be able to wipe out so great an empire. From their hands I could snatch the torches and wrest the swords, as I did; their hardened and unholy intentions I could neither cure nor put away. Wherefore I am not unaware in how great peril I live amid so great a multitude of the wicked, since I see that I alone have undertaken eternal war with all the wicked.

etenim in qua civitate res tantas gesserim memini, in qua urbe verser intellego. plenum forum est eorum hominum quos ego a vestris cervicibus depuli, iudices, a meis non removi. Nisi vero paucos fuisse arbitramini qui conari aut sperare possent se tantum imperium posse delere. Horum ego faces eripere de manibus et gladios extorquere potui, sicuti feci, voluntates vero consceleratas ac nefarias nec sanare potui nec tollere. qua re non sum nescius quanto periculo vivam in tanta multitudine improborum, cum mihi uni cum omnibus improbis aeternum videam bellum esse susceptum.

But if perhaps you envy me my supports, and if these things seem to you kingly — that all good men of every kind and order link their safety with mine — console yourself with this: that the minds of all the wicked are most fiercely set against me alone. They hate me not only because I crushed their unholy attempts and their criminal madness, but the more on this account, that they think nothing similar can be attempted any more while I live.

quod si illis meis praesidiis forte invides, et si ea tibi regia videntur quod omnes boni omnium generum atque ordinum suam salutem cum mea coniungunt, consolare te quod omnium mentes improborum mihi uni maxime sunt infensae et adversae; qui me non modo idcirco oderunt quod eorum conatus impios et furorem consceleratum repressi, sed eo etiam magis quod nihil iam se simile me vivo conari posse arbitrantur.

But why, indeed, should I wonder if anything is wickedly said about me by the wicked, when Lucius Torquatus — a man, first, who has himself laid these foundations of his youth, who has set this hope of the highest dignity before himself, and second, the son of Lucius Torquatus, that bravest of consuls, that most steadfast of senators, that ever-best of citizens — is at moments carried away by the immoderation of his words? When he had spoken with lowered voice of the wickedness of Publius Lentulus, of the audacity of all the conspirators — only just so much that you who approve those things could hear — of the punishment, of the prison he was speaking with great and querulous voice.

at vero quid ego mirer, si quid ab improbis de me improbe dicitur, cum L. Torquatus primum ipse his fundamentis adulescentiae iactis, ea spe proposita amplissimae dignitatis, deinde L. Torquati, fortissimi consulis, constantissimi senatoris, semper optimi civis filius, interdum efferatur immoderatione verborum? qui cum suppressa voce de scelere P. Lentuli, de audacia coniuratorum omnium dixisset, tantum modo ut vos qui ea probatis exaudire possetis, de supplicio, de carcere magna et queribunda voce dicebat.

In which the first absurdity was this: while he wished to make those things he had said softly approved by you, but did not wish those who were standing around the trial to hear them, he did not see that what he said clearly the men to whom he was making himself agreeable would so hear that you also would hear it, you who did not approve it. And the second is now an orator’s failing — not to see what each cause requires. For nothing is so foreign to one who would prosecute another for conspiracy as to seem to be lamenting the punishment and death of conspirators. When that tribune of the plebs does so who alone seems to have been left of them for the lamenting of conspirators, no one wonders; for it is hard to be silent when you grieve. But you, if you do anything of this kind — not only as a young man of your sort, but in a case in which you wish to seem the avenger of conspiracy — I greatly wonder at.

in quo primum illud erat absurdum quod, cum ea quae leviter dixerat vobis probare volebat, eos autem qui circum iudicium stabant audire nolebat, non intellegebat ea quae clare diceret ita illos audituros quibus se venditabat ut vos quoque audiretis, qui id non probabatis. deinde alterum iam oratoris est vitium non videre quid quaeque causa postulet. nihil est enim tam alienum ab eo qui alterum coniurationis accuset quam videri coniuratorum poenam mortemque lugere. quod cum is tribunus pl. facit qui unus videtur ex illis ad lugendos coniuratos relictus, nemini mirum est; difficile est enim tacere, cum doleas; te, si quid eius modi facis, non modo talem adulescentem sed in ea causa in qua te vindicem coniurationis velis esse vehementer admiror.

But what I rebuke most is this: that, with such talent and prudence as you have, you do not grasp the cause of the commonwealth — you who think that those things which all good men in my consulship did for the common safety are not approved by the Roman plebs. Do you reckon any one of these men present here, to whom you were making yourself agreeable against their own will, either so wicked as to wish all this to perish, or so wretched that he would wish himself to perish and would have nothing he wished to be safe? Or does no one rebuke that most distinguished man of your stock and name, who deprived his own son of life that he might strengthen his command over others; do you rebuke the commonwealth, which killed her domestic enemies that she herself might not be killed by them?

sed reprehendo tamen illud maxime quod isto ingenio et prudentia praeditus causam rei publicae non tenes, qui arbitrere plebi Romanae res eas non probari quas me consule omnes boni pro communi salute gesserunt. ecquem tu horum qui adsunt, quibus te contra ipsorum voluntatem venditabas, aut tam sceleratum statuis fuisse ut haec omnia perire voluerit, aut tam miserum ut et se perire cuperet et nihil haberet quod salvum esse vellet? an vero clarissimum virum generis vestri ac nominis nemo reprehendit, qui filium suum vita privavit ut in ceteros firmaret imperium; tu rem publicam reprehendis, quae domesticos hostis, ne ab eis ipsa necaretur, necavit?

Mark, then, Torquatus, how I shrink from the authority of my consulship! With the loudest voice, that all may hear, I say and shall always say. Be present in mind, all of you, citizens, by whose attendance I am greatly gladdened; lift up your minds and your ears, and attend to me as I speak (so he thinks) on matters that bring odium! I as consul, when an army of ruined citizens, gathered together by clandestine wickedness, had readied the cruellest and most lamentable destruction for the country, when for the going-down and ruin of the commonwealth Catiline in the camp and Lentulus in these temples and houses had been set up as leaders, by my counsels, by my labours, at the danger of my own head, without alarm, without levy, without arms, without an army — five men seized and confessed — I freed the city from burning, the citizens from slaughter, Italy from devastation, the commonwealth from death; I redeemed the lives of all citizens, the fabric of the world, this city itself, the dwelling-place of us all, the citadel of kings and foreign nations, the light of the peoples, the home of empire, by the punishment of five mad and ruined men.

itaque attende, Torquate, quam ego defugiam auctoritatem consulatus mei! maxima voce ut omnes exaudire possint dico semperque dicam. adeste omnes animis, Quirites, quorum ego frequentia magno opere laetor; erigite mentis aurisque vestras et me de invidiosis rebus, ut ille putat, dicentem attendite! ego consul, cum exercitus perditorum civium clandestino scelere conflatus crudelissimum et luctuosissimum exitium patriae comparasset, cum ad occasum interitumque rei publicae Catilina in castris, in his autem templis atque tectis dux Lentulus esset constitutus, meis consiliis, meis laboribus, mei capitis periculis, sine tumultu, sine dilectu, sine armis, sine exercitu, quinque hominibus comprehensis atque confessis incensione urbem, internicione civis, vastitate Italiam, interitu rem publicam liberavi; ego vitam omnium civium, statum orbis terrae, urbem hanc denique, sedem omnium nostrum, arcem regum ac nationum exterarum, lumen gentium, domicilium imperi, quinque hominum amentium ac perditorum poena redemi.

Or did you suppose that I should not say without oath in court the things which I had said on oath at the greatest assembly? And this also I shall add, lest perhaps some wicked man should suddenly begin to love you, Torquatus, and to hope something from you, and that they all may hear it, I shall say it in the clearest voice. Of all those things which I undertook and carried out in my consulship for the safety of the commonwealth, that Lucius Torquatus, when he was my messmate in my consulship, and had been so before in my praetorship, came forward as actor, helper, sharer — when he was a leader, an instigator, a standard-bearer of the youth. And his father, that man most loving of country, of greatest spirit, of highest counsel, of singular steadfastness, though he was ill, was yet present at all those events, never went apart from me, was the one who in zeal, in counsel, in authority gave me most help, conquering the weakness of his body by the virtue of his mind.

an me existimasti haec iniuratum in iudicio non esse dicturum quae iuratus in maxima contione dixissem? atque etiam illud addam, ne qui forte incipiat improbus subito te amare, Torquate, et aliquid sperare de te, atque ut idem omnes exaudiant clarissima voce dicam. harum omnium rerum quas ego in consulatu pro salute rei publicae suscepi atque gessi L. ille Torquatus, cum esset meus contubernalis in consulatu atque etiam in praetura fuisset, cum princeps, cum auctor, cum signifer esset iuventutis, actor, adiutor, particeps exstitit; parens eius, homo amantissimus patriae, maximi animi, summi consili, singularis constantiae, cum esset aeger, tamen omnibus rebus illis interfuit, nusquam est a me digressus, studio, consilio, auctoritate unus adiuvit plurimum, cum infirmitatem corporis animi virtute superaret.

Do you see how I am snatching you out of the sudden favour of the wicked and reconciling you to all good men? Men who love you and hold you and will hold you always, nor, if perchance you should fall away from me, will on that account suffer you to fall away from them and from the commonwealth and from your own dignity. But now I return to the case, and I take you to witness, judges: a kind of necessity has been laid on me by him to speak so much of myself. For if Torquatus had accused Sulla alone, I too at this time should be doing nothing but defending the man who had been accused. But since he in that whole speech inveighed against me, and since (as I said at the start) he wished to strip the authority from my defence, even if my own indignation did not force me to answer, yet the case itself would have demanded this speech of me.

videsne ut eripiam te ex improborum subita gratia et reconciliem bonis omnibus? qui te et diligunt et retinent retinebuntque semper nec, si a me forte desciveris, idcirco te a se et a re publica et a tua dignitate deficere patientur. sed iam redeo ad causam atque hoc vos, iudices, testor: mihi de memet ipso tam multa dicendi necessitas quaedam imposita est ab illo. nam si Torquatus Sullam solum accusasset, ego quoque hoc tempore nihil aliud agerem nisi eum qui accusatus esset defenderem; sed cum ille tota illa oratione in me esset invectus et cum, ut initio dixi, defensionem meam spoliare auctoritate voluisset, etiam si dolor meus respondere non cogeret, tamen ipsa causa hanc a me orationem flagitavisset.

You say that Sulla was named by the Allobroges. Who denies it? But read the deposition and see in what manner he was named. They said that Lucius Cassius mentioned, with the others, that Autronius was on his side. I ask whether Cassius named Sulla. Nowhere. They say they themselves asked Cassius what Sulla’s view was. See the diligence of the Gauls: who, knowing nothing of these men’s lives or characters, and having heard only that they had suffered an equal disaster, asked whether they were of the same mind. What did Cassius say then? Even if he had answered that Sulla was of the same mind and on his side, even so it ought not, in my view, to count as a charge against this man. Why so? Because the man who would push barbarians into a war ought not to lessen their suspicion and to clear the men of whom they seemed to have some suspicion.

ab Allobrogibus nominatum Sullam esse dicis. quis negat? sed lege indicium et vide quem ad modum nominatus sit. L. Cassium dixerunt commemorasse cum ceteris Autronium secum facere. quaero num Sullam dixerit Cassius. nusquam. sese aiunt quaesisse de Cassio quid Sulla sentiret. videte diligentiam Gallorum; qui vitam hominum naturamque non nossent ac tantum audissent eos pari calamitate esse, quaesiverunt essentne eadem voluntate. quid tum Cassius? si respondisset idem sentire et secum facere Sullam, tamen mihi non videretur in hunc id criminosum esse debere. quid ita? quia, qui barbaros homines ad bellum impelleret, non debebat minuere illorum suspicionem et purgare eos de quibus illi aliquid suspicari viderentur.

He did not, however, answer that Sulla was on his side. For it would have been absurd that, having named the rest unprompted, he should make no mention of Sulla unless reminded and questioned — unless perhaps it is likely that the name of Publius Sulla had escaped Cassius’s memory. If the man’s nobility, if his blasted fortune, if the relics of his former dignity had not been so illustrious, yet the mention of Autronius would have brought back the memory of Sulla. Even, in my view, since Cassius was assembling the names of the leaders of the conspiracy to inflame the spirits of the Allobroges, and since he knew that foreign nations are most moved by nobility, he would not have named Autronius before Sulla.

non respondit tamen una facere Sullam. etenim esset absurdum, cum ceteros sua sponte nominasset, mentionem facere Sullae nullam nisi admonitum et interrogatum; nisi forte veri simile est P. Sullae nomen in memoria Cassio non fuisse. si nobilitas hominis, si adflicta fortuna, si reliquiae pristinae dignitatis non tam inlustres fuissent, tamen Autroni commemoratio memoriam Sullae rettulisset; etiam, ut arbitror, cum auctoritates principum coniurationis ad incitandos animos Allobrogum conligeret Cassius, et cum sciret exteras nationes maxime nobilitate moveri, non prius Autronium quam Sullam nominavisset.

And this in particular cannot be allowed: that the Gauls, when Autronius was named, thought, on account of likeness of disaster, that something was to be asked them about Sulla; while Cassius, if this man were in the same crime, could not have brought him to mind even after calling Autronius’s name. But yet what did Cassius answer about Sulla? That he did not know for certain. “He does not clear him,” he says. I have already said: not even if he were positively to charge him — and only when questioned — would that seem to me a charge.

iam vero illud minime probari potest, Gallos Autronio nominato putasse propter calamitatis similitudinem sibi aliquid de Sulla esse quaerendum, Cassio, si hic esset in eodem scelere, ne cum appellasset quidem Autronium, huius in mentem venire potuisse. sed tamen quid respondit de Sulla Cassius? se nescire certum. ’ non purgat,’ inquit. dixi antea: ne si argueret quidem tum denique, cum esset interrogatus, id mihi criminosum videretur.

But for my part, in trials and in inquiries, I think the question is not whether someone is being cleared, but whether he is being charged. For when Cassius says that he does not know, is he covering for Sulla or showing well enough that he does not know? “He covers for him before the Gauls.” Why? “So that they may not denounce him.” What? If he had thought there was danger that they would ever denounce him, would he have admitted it about himself? “He did not know, then.” I see: Cassius was kept in the dark about Sulla alone — for about the rest he certainly knew, since most of the plotting was put together in his house. He, unwilling to deny that Sulla was of their number lest he give the Gauls less hope, but not daring to lie, said he did not know. And this much is plain: when the man who knew about all denied that he knew about Sulla, his denial has the same force as if he had said that he knew this man was outside the conspiracy. For when a man’s knowledge plainly extends to all, his ignorance about anyone ought to count as a clearing. But I no longer ask whether Cassius clears Sulla; this much is enough for me, that there is nothing in the deposition against Sulla.

sed ego in iudiciis et in quaestionibus non hoc quaerendum arbitror, num purgetur aliquis, sed num arguatur. etenim cum se negat scire Cassius, utrum sublevat Sullam an satis probat se nescire? ’ sublevat apud Gallos.’ quid ita? ’ ne indicent.’ quid? si periculum esse putasset ne illi umquam indicarent, de se ipse confessus esset? ’ nesciit videlicet.’ credo celatum esse Cassium de Sulla uno; nam de ceteris certe sciebat; etenim domi eius pleraque conflata esse constabat. qui negare noluit esse in eo numero Sullam quo plus spei Gallis daret, dicere autem falsum non ausus est, se nescire dixit. atque hoc perspicuum est, cum is qui de omnibus scierit de Sulla se scire negarit, eandem vim esse negationis huius quam si extra coniurationem hunc esse se scire dixisset. nam cuius scientiam de omnibus constat fuisse, eius ignoratio de aliquo purgatio debet videri. sed iam non quaero purgetne Cassius Sullam; illud mihi tantum satis est contra Sullam nihil esse in indicio.

Shut out from this charge, Torquatus rushes in upon me again, accuses me; says that I entered the deposition into the public records other than as it had been spoken. Immortal gods! — for I attribute to you the things that are yours, and indeed I cannot grant my own talent so much as that I, on my own, should have foreseen so many things, so great, so various, so sudden, in that most turbulent storm of the commonwealth — you indeed kindled my mind then with the desire of saving my country; you turned me from all other thoughts to the one safety of the commonwealth; you finally bore before my mind, in such great darkness of error and ignorance, the clearest light.

exclusus hac criminatione Torquatus rursus in me inruit, me accusat; ait me aliter ac dictum sit in tabulas publicas rettulisse. O di immortales!—vobis enim tribuo quae vestra sunt, nec vero possum meo tantum ingenio dare ut tot res tantas, tam varias, tam repentinas in illa turbulentissima tempestate rei publicae mea sponte dispexerim —vos profecto animum meum tum conservandae patriae cupiditate incendistis, vos me ab omnibus ceteris cogitationibus ad unam salutem rei publicae convertistis, vos denique in tantis tenebris erroris et inscientiae clarissimum lumen menti meae praetulistis.

I saw this, judges: unless I had attested the senate’s authority for this deposition, while memory was fresh, by public records, the time would come when not Torquatus nor any like Torquatus — in this I have been much deceived — but some shipwrecked man of his patrimony, an enemy of peace, a foe to good men, would say that the deposition had been given otherwise, the more easily that, when some wind had been roused against the best men, he might find in the troubles of the commonwealth some harbour for his own troubles. So when the informers had been brought into the senate, I appointed senators who should write down everything — the informers’ words, the questions asked, the answers given.

vidi ego hoc, iudices, nisi recenti memoria senatus auctoritatem huius indici monumentis publicis testatus essem, fore ut aliquando non Torquatus neque Torquati quispiam similis—nam id me multum fefellit—sed ut aliquis patrimoni naufragus, inimicus oti, bonorum hostis, aliter indicata haec esse diceret, quo facilius vento aliquo in optimum quemque excitato posset in malis rei publicae portum aliquem suorum malorum invenire. itaque introductis in senatum indicibus constitui senatores qui omnia indicum dicta, interrogata, responsa perscriberent.

And what men! not only of the highest virtue and good faith — for of that kind there was the largest supply in the senate — but men whom I knew capable, by memory and knowledge and quickness of writing, of following with the greatest ease whatever was said: Gaius Cosconius, who was then praetor, Marcus Messala, who was then standing for the praetorship, Publius Nigidius, Appius Claudius. There is, I take it, no one who would think that good faith or talent was lacking to these men for a true record. What then? what did I do? Knowing that the deposition had been entered in the public records yet that those records, after our ancestors’ fashion, were kept under private custody, I did not hide it, did not keep it at home, but at once ordered it to be copied by all the secretaries, distributed everywhere, made common, and published to the Roman people. I distributed it through all Italy, sent it out to all the provinces; and of that deposition, by which safety had been brought to all, I wished no one to be without his share.

at quos viros! non solum summa virtute et fide, cuius generis erat in senatu facultas maxima, sed etiam quos sciebam memoria, scientia, celeritate scribendi facillime quae dicerentur persequi posse, C. Cosconium, qui tum erat praetor, M. Messalam, qui tum praeturam petebat, P. Nigidium, App. Claudium. credo esse neminem qui his hominibus ad vere referendum aut fidem putet aut ingenium defuisse. quid deinde? quid feci? Cum scirem ita esse indicium relatum in tabulas publicas ut illae tabulae privata tamen custodia more maiorum continerentur, non occultavi, non continui domi, sed statim describi ab omnibus librariis, dividi passim et pervolgari atque edi populo Romano imperavi. divisi tota Italia, emisi in omnis provincias; eius indici ex quo oblata salus esset omnibus expertem esse neminem volui.

And so I say there is no spot in the world where the name of the Roman people is, to which this deposition has not also been sent, written out word for word. In which I, in so sudden and brief and turbid a time, foresaw many things by divine help (as I said), not by my own counsel: first, that no one should be able to remember of the danger to the commonwealth or to anyone as much or as little as he wished; second, that none should ever be allowed to find fault with that deposition or charge that it was rashly believed; finally, that nothing should now be sought from me, nothing from my notes — so that neither forgetfulness on my part nor too great a memory should be supposed, nor at last either base negligence or cruel diligence be imputed.

itaque dico locum in orbe terrarum esse nullum, quo in loco populi Romani nomen sit, quin eodem perscriptum hoc indicium pervenerit. in quo ego tam subito et exiguo et turbido tempore multa divinitus, ita ut dixi, non mea sponte providi, primum ne quis posset tantum aut de rei publicae aut de alicuius periculo meminisse quantum vellet; deinde ne cui liceret umquam reprehendere illud indicium aut temere creditum criminari; postremo ne quid iam a me, ne quid ex meis commentariis quaereretur, ne aut oblivio mea aut memoria nimia videretur, ne denique aut neglegentia turpis aut diligentia crudelis putaretur.

But yet from you, Torquatus, I ask: when your enemy had been informed against, when there was a full senate and a recent memory as witness, and when my secretaries (you my close friend and messmate) would have been ready to give you the deposition before they had even entered it in the book, if you had wished — why, when you saw that things were being done otherwise, did you keep silent, allow it, not complain to me as one closest to you, or, since you are so easily carried into invective against your friends, why did you not protest more sharply and more vehemently? You, when your voice was never heard, when, with the deposition read, transcribed, made public, you were quiet, were silent — do you suddenly forge so great a thing, and bring yourself to such a pass that, before convicting me of altering the deposition, you would have to confess on your own showing that you had been guilty of the highest negligence?

sed tamen abs te, Torquate, quaero: cum indicatus tuus esset inimicus et esset eius rei frequens senatus et recens memoria testis, et tibi, meo familiari et contubernali, prius etiam edituri indicium fuerint scribae mei, si voluisses, quam in codicem rettulissent, cur cum videres aliter fieri, tacuisti, passus es, non mecum aut ut cum familiarissimo questus es aut, quoniam tam facile inveheris in amicos, iracundius et vehementius expostulasti? tu, cum tua vox numquam sit audita, cum indicio lecto, descripto, divolgato quieveris, tacueris, repente tantam rem ementiare et in eum locum te deducas ut, ante quam me commutati indici coargueris, te summae neglegentiae tuo iudicio convictum esse fateare?

Should anyone’s safety have been to me of such weight that I should have neglected my own? Should I, by whom the truth had been laid open, contaminate it with some lie? Should I, finally, help any man whom I should have thought to have made such cruel plots against the commonwealth, plots set up especially in my consulship? And if I had now forgotten my severity and steadfastness, was I so out of my mind that, when letters have been invented for posterity’s sake, that they may serve as a defence against forgetfulness, I should think that the recent memory of the whole senate could be overthrown by my notebook?

mihi cuiusquam salus tanti fuisset ut meam neglegerem? per me ego veritatem patefactam contaminarem aliquo mendacio? quemquam denique ego iuvarem, a quo et tam crudelis insidias rei publicae factas et me potissimum consule constitutas putarem? quod si iam essem oblitus severitatis et constantiae meae, tamne amens eram ut, cum litterae posteritatis causa repertae sint, quae subsidio oblivioni esse possent, ego recentem putarem memoriam cuncti senatus commentario meo posse superari?

I bear with you, Torquatus, I have long borne with you, and at times I myself call back and bend back my mind when it is roused to take revenge on your speech. I allow something to your anger, I give to your youth, I yield to friendship, I grant to your father. But unless you set a limit to yourself, you will compel me, forgetful of our friendship, to take account of my own dignity. No one ever brushed me with the slightest suspicion whom I have not overturned and broken. But this I want you to believe me: it is not those whom I think I can most easily overcome whom I am most apt to answer.

fero ego te, Torquate, iam dudum fero, et non numquam animum incitatum ad ulciscendam orationem tuam revoco ipse et reflecto, permitto aliquid iracundiae tuae, do adulescentiae, cedo amicitiae, tribuo parenti. sed nisi tibi aliquem modum tute constitueris, coges oblitum me nostrae amicitiae habere rationem meae dignitatis. nemo umquam me tenuissima suspicione perstrinxit quem non perverterim ac perfregerim. sed mihi hoc credas velim: non eis libentissime soleo respondere quos mihi videor facillime posse superare.

You, since you are not at all ignorant of my custom of speaking, do not abuse this new mildness of mine; do not think that the stings of my speech, which are stowed away, are shaken out; do not at all suppose that what is remitted and conceded to you is lost from me. Both those excuses for your injury weigh with me — your angry mind, your youth, our friendship — and yet I do not yet judge you to have strength enough that I ought to wrestle and grapple with you. But if you were stronger in experience and age, I should be the same I am wont to be when I am provoked; now I shall so deal with you that I may seem rather to have borne the injury than repaid the favour.

tu quoniam minime ignoras consuetudinem dicendi meam, noli hac nova lenitate abuti mea, noli aculeos orationis meae, qui reconditi sunt, excussos arbitrari, noli id omnino a me putare esse amissum si quid est tibi remissum atque concessum. Cum illae valent apud me excusationes iniuriae tuae, iratus animus tuus, aetas, amicitia nostra, tum nondum statuo te virium satis habere ut ego tecum luctari et congredi debeam. quod si esses usu atque aetate robustior, essem idem qui soleo cum sum lacessitus; nunc tecum sic agam tulisse ut potius iniuriam quam rettulisse gratiam videar.

Nor indeed can I understand why you are angry with me. If because I defend the man you accuse, why am I not angry at you, because you accuse the man I defend? “I,” you say, “am accusing my enemy.” And I am defending my friend. “You ought not to defend anyone in an inquiry on conspiracy.” On the contrary, no one more — when he, of all men, has himself learned much about others, never suspected anything of him. “Why did you give evidence against others?” Because I was forced. “Why have they been condemned?” Because they were believed. “It is kingship to give evidence against whom you choose and defend whom you choose.” On the contrary, it is slavery not to give evidence against whom you choose and not to defend whom you choose. And if you begin to consider whether it was more necessary for me to do this or that for you, you will see that more honourably might you have set a limit to your enmity than I to my humanity.

neque vero quid mihi irascare intellegere possum. si, quod eum defendo quem tu accusas, cur tibi ego non suscenseo, quod accusas eum quem ego defendo? ’ inimicum ego,’ inquis, ’accuso meum.’ et amicum ego defendo meum. ’ non debes tu quemquam in coniurationis quaestione defendere.’ immo nemo magis eum de quo nihil umquam est suspicatus quam is qui de aliis multa cognovit. ’ cur dixisti testimonium in alios?’ quia coactus sum. ’ cur damnati sunt?’ quia creditum est. ’ regnum est dicere in quem velis et defendere quem velis.’ immo servitus est non dicere in quem velis et non defendere quem velis. ac si considerare coeperis utrum magis mihi hoc necesse fuerit facere an istud tibi, intelleges honestius te inimicitiarum modum statuere potuisse quam me humanitatis.

Yet, in fact, when the highest honour of your family was at stake — that is, your father’s consulship — did that wisest of men, your father, not get angry with his closest connections when they both defended Sulla and praised him? He understood that we have been handed down this discipline by our ancestors: that no man’s friendship hinder us from warding off dangers. But that contest was wholly unlike this trial. Then, with Publius Sulla shattered, the consulship was being secured for you, as it was secured. It was a contest of office. You kept clamouring that you were taking back what had been snatched from you: beaten on the Field, you wished to win in the Forum. Then those who fought against you for this man’s safety, your closest friends with whom you were not angry, were stripping the consulship from you, were resisting your honour, and yet did this with your friendship unbroken, with duty whole, after the old example and practice of every best man.

at vero, cum honos agebatur familiae vestrae amplissimus, hoc est consulatus parentis tui, sapientissimus vir familiarissimis suis non suscensuit, pater tuus, cum Sullam et defenderent et laudarent? intellegebat hanc nobis a maioribus esse traditam disciplinam ut nullius amicitia ad pericula propulsanda impediremur. at erat huic iudicio longe dissimilis illa contentio. tum adflicto P. Sulla consulatus vobis pariebatur, sicuti partus est; honoris erat certamen; ereptum repetere vos clamitabatis, ut victi in campo in foro vinceretis; tum qui contra vos pro huius salute pugnabant, amicissimi vestri, quibus non irascebamini, consulatum vobis eripiebant, honori vestro repugnabant, et tamen id inviolata vestra amicitia, integro officio, vetere exemplo atque instituto optimi cuiusque faciebant.

But for myself — what ornaments of yours do I oppose, what dignity of yours do I resist? What is there now that you would seek from this man? The honour has gone to your father, the insignia of honour have been brought to you. You come, dressed in this man’s spoils, to mangle the man you have killed; I defend and protect a man fallen and stripped. And here you both rebuke me because I defend him and grow angry; I, on the other hand, not only am not angry with you but do not even rebuke what you have done. For I think that you set yourself what you thought you ought to do, and could be a sufficient judge of your own duty.

ego vero quibus ornamentis adversor tuis aut cui dignitati vestrae repugno? quid est quod iam ab hoc expetas? honos ad patrem, insignia honoris ad te delata sunt. tu ornatus exuviis huius venis ad eum lacerandum quem interemisti, ego iacentem et spoliatum defendo et protego. atque hic tu et reprehendis me quia defendam et irasceris; ego autem non modo tibi non irascor sed ne reprehendo quidem factum tuum. te enim existimo tibi statuisse quid faciendum putares et satis idoneum offici tui iudicem esse potuisse.

But the son of Gaius Cornelius prosecutes him, and that ought to count as much as if his father were giving evidence. O what a wise father Cornelius is, who, leaving aside what reward there is wont to be in giving evidence, what disgrace there is in confessing, has taken on the same end through his son’s accusation! But what is it then that Cornelius is informing of through this boy? If old things, unknown to me, shared with Hortensius — Hortensius has answered. But if, as you say, that attempt of Autronius and Catiline, when they wished to make slaughter on the Field at the consular elections held by me — I myself saw Autronius then on the Field. But why did I say I saw? — I saw; for you then, judges, were not anxious nor suspecting anything; I, screened by a strong guard of friends, then put down the forces and the attempt of Catiline and Autronius.

at accusat C. Corneli filius et id aeque valere debet ac si pater indicaret. O patrem Cornelium sapientem qui, quod praemi solet esse in indicio, reliquerit, quod turpitudinis in confessione, id per accusationem fili susceperit! sed quid est tandem quod indicat per istum puerum Cornelius? si vetera, mihi ignota, cum Hortensio communicata, respondit Hortensius; sin, ut ais, illum conatum Autroni et Catilinae, cum in campo consularibus comitiis, quae a me habita sunt, caedem facere voluerunt, Autronium tum in campo vidimus —sed quid dixi vidisse nos? ego vidi; vos enim tum, iudices, nihil laborabatis neque suspicabamini, ego tectus praesidio firmo amicorum Catilinae tum et Autroni copias et conatum repressi.

Now is there anyone who says that Sulla then breathed aspiration toward the Field? And yet, if at that time he had joined himself with Catiline in the partnership of crime, why was he keeping clear of him, why was he not with Autronius, why in a like case are like marks of guilt not found? But since Cornelius even now is doubting whether to inform, and (as you say) is shaping his son for this dim and shadowy informing, what then does he say of that night when, among the scythe-makers’ shops, at Marcus Laeca’s, on the night which followed the day after the Nones of November, in my consulship, by Catiline’s summons there was a meeting? That night was the sharpest and bitterest of all the times of the conspiracy. Then was set Catiline’s day for going out, then the terms for the rest’s staying, then the dividing-up through the whole city of slaughter and of fires; then your father, Cornelius (a thing he at last admits at this date), demanded for himself that obliging task, that, when at first light he came to greet the consul, he should be admitted (after my custom and by the right of friendship) and butcher me on my couch.

num quis est igitur qui tum dicat in campum aspirasse Sullam? atqui, si tum se cum Catilina societate sceleris coniunxerat, cur ab eo discedebat, cur cum Autronio non erat, cur in pari causa non paria signa criminis reperiuntur? sed quoniam Cornelius ipse etiam nunc de indicando dubitat, et, ut dicitis, informat ad hoc adumbratum indicium filium, quid tandem de illa nocte dicit, cum inter falcarios ad M. Laecam nocte ea quae consecuta est posterum diem Nonarum Novembrium me consule Catilinae denuntiatione convenit? quae nox omnium temporum coniurationis acerrima fuit atque acerbissima. tum Catilinae dies exeundi, tum ceteris manendi condicio, tum discriptio totam per urbem caedis atque incendiorum constituta est; tum tuus pater, Corneli, id quod tandem aliquando confitetur, illam sibi officiosam provinciam depoposcit ut, cum prima luce consulem salutatum veniret, intromissus et meo more et iure amicitiae me in meo lectulo trucidaret.

At this time, when the conspiracy was burning at its hottest, when Catiline was going out to the army, Lentulus was being left behind in the city, Cassius set over the burnings, Cethegus over the slaughter, when it was being prescribed for Autronius to seize Etruria, when all things were being arranged, drawn up, prepared — where was Sulla, Cornelius? At Rome? On the contrary, far away. In those regions toward which Catiline was making? Far further still. In the territory of Camerinum, of Picenum, of Gaul, the parts which the disease, as it were, of that madness had most pervaded? Nothing less. He was, as I said before, at Naples, in that part of Italy which was most free of any such suspicion.

hoc tempore, cum arderet acerrime coniuratio, cum Catilina egrederetur ad exercitum, Lentulus in urbe relinqueretur, Cassius incendiis, Cethegus caedi praeponeretur, Autronio ut occuparet Etruriam praescriberetur, cum omnia ornarentur, instruerentur, pararentur, ubi fuit Sulla, Corneli? num Romae? immo longe afuit. num in eis regionibus quo se Catilina inferebat? multo etiam longius. num in agro Camerti, Piceno, Gallico, quas in oras maxime quasi morbus quidam illius furoris pervaserat? nihil vero minus. fuit enim, ut iam ante dixi, Neapoli, fuit in ea parte Italiae quae maxime ista suspicione caruit.

What does Cornelius then disclose, what does he bring forward — either he himself, or you who carry these instructions for him? That gladiators were bought in Faustus’s name for slaughter and tumult? “Just so: gladiators were brought in.” Whom we see to be due by his father’s will. “A troop has been picked up.” Which, if it had been passed over, another troop could have provided Faustus’s games. Would, indeed, that this very thing could content not only the malice of the unfair but the expectation of the fair! “It was done in great haste, when the time of the games was far away.” As if, indeed, the time for giving the games were not now strongly approaching. “Faustus not knowing it, when he neither knew nor wished, the troop was made ready.”

quid ergo indicat aut quid adfert aut ipse Cornelius aut vos qui haec ab illo mandata defertis? gladiatores emptos esse Fausti simulatione ad caedem ac tumultum? ’ ita prorsus; interpositi sunt gladiatores.’ quos testamento patris deberi videmus. ’ adrepta est familia.’ quae si esset praetermissa, posset alia familia Fausti munus praebere. Vtinam quidem haec ipsa non modo iniquorum invidiae sed aequorum exspectationi satis facere posset! ’ properatum vehementer est, cum longe tempus muneris abesset.’ quasi vero tempus dandi muneris non valde appropinquaret. ’ nec opinante Fausto, cum is neque sciret neque vellet, familia est comparata.’

But there are letters of Faustus, by which he begs in entreaty from Publius Sulla that he buy gladiators, and these very gladiators — not only sent to Sulla but to Lucius Caesar, Quintus Pompeius, Gaius Memmius, by whose advice the whole thing was done. “But Cornelius, his freedman, was put in charge of the troop.” If now in providing the troop there is no suspicion, who was put in charge has nothing to do with it; but yet he undertook the slavish duty of looking after the iron-gear, but was never in charge, and that business throughout was conducted by Bellum, Faustus’s freedman.

at litterae sunt Fausti,per quas ille precibus a P. Sulla petit ut emat gladiatores et ut hos ipsos emat, neque solum ad Sullam missae sed ad L. Caesarem, Q. Pompeium, C. Memmium, quorum de sententia tota res gesta est. ’ at praefuit familiae Cornelius, libertus eius.’ iam si in paranda familia nulla suspicio est, quis praefuerit nihil ad rem pertinet; sed tamen munere servili obtulit se ad ferramenta prospicienda, praefuit vero numquam, eaque res omni tempore per bellum, Fausti libertum, administrata est.

“But Sittius was sent by him into Further Spain to throw that province into confusion.” First, judges, Sittius set out in the consulship of Lucius Julius and Gaius Figulus — some good while before Catiline’s madness and the suspicion of this conspiracy. Next, he set out not then for the first time, but when he had been in those same parts for several years some time before, on the same business; and he set out not just on his own account but on a necessary errand — a great affair contracted with the king of Mauretania. Then, when he had gone, Sulla managing his estate and conducting it, by the sale of very many and very fine estates of Publius Sittius the same man’s debt was paid off. So that the cause which drove the rest to crime — the desire to keep their possessions — was not in Sittius’s case, his estates having been reduced.

at enim Sittius est ab hoc in ulteriorem Hispaniam missus ut eam provinciam perturbaret. primum Sittius, iudices, L. Iulio C. Figulo consulibus profectus est aliquanto ante furorem Catilinae et suspicionem huius coniurationis; deinde est profectus non tum primum sed cum in isdem locis aliquanto ante eadem de causa aliquot annos fuisset, ac profectus est non modo ob causam sed etiam ob necessariam causam, magna ratione cum Mauretaniae rege contracta. tum autem, illo profecto, Sulla procurante eius rem et gerente plurimis et pulcherrimis P. Sitti praediis venditis aes alienum eiusdem dissolutum est, ut, quae causa ceteros ad facinus impulit, cupiditas retinendae possessionis, ea Sittio non fuerit praediis deminutis.

Then how incredible, how absurd this is: that he who would make slaughter at Rome, would set this city ablaze, should send away from him his closest connection and dispatch him to the ends of the earth! Was it that he might more easily accomplish at Rome what he was attempting, if there were disorder in Spain? But these very things were going on by themselves, without any link. Or in such great matters, with counsels so new, so dangerous, so turbulent, did he think that the man most loving of him, most close, most joined to him by services, by daily intercourse, by use, was to be sent away? It is not likely that the man whom he would have always with him in prosperity, whom he would have with him in leisure, he should send away from him in adversity and in that very tumult he was preparing.

iam vero illud quam incredibile, quam absurdum, qui Romae caedem facere, qui hanc urbem inflammare vellet, eum familiarissimum suum dimittere ab se et amandare in ultimas terras! Vtrum quo facilius Romae ea quae conabatur efficeret, si in Hispania turbatum esset? at haec ipsa per se sine ulla coniunctione agebantur. an in tantis rebus, tam novis consiliis, tam periculosis, tam turbulentis hominem amantissimum sui, familiarissimum, coniunctissimum officiis, consuetudine, usu dimittendum esse arbitrabatur? veri simile non est ut, quem in secundis rebus, quem in otio secum semper habuisset, hunc in adversis et in eo tumultu quem ipse comparabat ab se dimitteret.

As for Sittius himself — for I cannot desert the cause of an old friend and guest — is the man, or is his family and breeding, of such a kind that this can be believed: that he should have wished to make war on the Roman people? That, when his father stood out, while the rest of his neighbours and the surrounding peoples deserted, in singular service and good faith to our commonwealth, the son should have thought that an unholy war must be undertaken by him against his country? Whose debt we see, judges, to have been contracted not from lust but from zeal in conducting business — a man who owed at Rome on such terms that the largest sums were owed to him in provinces and in kingdoms; and when he sought these in, he did not allow his agents in his absence to undergo any of the burden; he chose rather to sell off all his possessions and to be stripped of a most well-furnished patrimony than that any delay should be made to any one of his creditors.

ipse autem Sittius—non enim mihi deserenda est causa amici veteris atque hospitis—is homo est aut ea familia ac disciplina ut hoc credi possit, eum bellum populo Romano facere voluisse? ut, cuius pater, cum ceteri deficerent finitimi ac vicini, singulari exstiterit in rem publicam nostram officio et fide, is sibi nefarium bellum contra patriam suscipiendum putaret? cuius aes alienum videmus, iudices, non libidine, sed negoti gerendi studio esse contractum, qui ita Romae debuit ut in provinciis et in regnis ei maximae pecuniae deberentur; quas cum peteret, non commisit ut sui procuratores quicquam oneris absente se sustinerent; venire omnis suas possessiones et patrimonio se ornatissimo spoliari maluit quam ullam moram cuiquam fieri creditorum suorum.

From this kind, indeed, judges, I have never feared — when I was busy in that storm of the commonwealth. That was the kind of men terrible and to be greatly feared, who clung with so great a love to their possessions embracing them that you would say their limbs could sooner be torn and pulled away. Sittius never thought he had a kinship with his estates. So he saved himself not only from the suspicion of so great a wickedness, but even from all men’s talk — not by arms, but by his patrimony.

A quo quidem genere, iudices, ego numquam timui, cum in illa rei publicae tempestate versarer. illud erat hominum genus horribile et pertimescendum qui tanto amore suas possessiones amplexi tenebant ut ab eis membra citius divelli ac distrahi posse diceres. Sittius numquam sibi cognationem cum praediis esse existimavit suis. itaque se non modo ex suspicione tanti sceleris verum etiam ex omni hominum sermone non armis, sed patrimonio suo vindicavit.

Then again as to what he objected — that the men of Pompeii were pushed by Sulla to throw in with that conspiracy and with this unholy crime — of what kind that is I cannot understand. Or do the men of Pompeii seem to you to have been in the conspiracy? Who has ever said this, or what was even the slightest suspicion of such a thing? “He divided them,” he says, “from the colonists, that, with this rift and dissension produced, he might be able through the men of Pompeii to hold the town in his power.” First, every dissension between the men of Pompeii and the colonists was brought to the patrons when it had already grown old and had been agitated for many years. Next, the matter was so heard by the patrons that on no point did Sulla differ from the rest’s opinions. Lastly, the colonists themselves understand that the men of Pompeii were no more defended by Sulla than they themselves.

iam vero quod obiecit Pompeianos esse a Sulla impulsos ut ad istam coniurationem atque ad hoc nefarium facinus accederent, id cuius modi sit intellegere non possum. an tibi Pompeiani coniurasse videntur? quis hoc dixit umquam, aut quae fuit istius rei vel minima suspicio? ’Diiunxit,’ inquit, ’eos a colonis ut hoc discidio ac dissensione facta oppidum in sua potestate posset per Pompeianos habere.’ primum omnis Pompeianorum colonorumque dissensio delata ad patronos est, cum iam inveterasset ac multos annos esset agitata; deinde ita a patronis res cognita est ut nulla in re a ceterorum sententiis Sulla dissenserit; postremo coloni ipsi sic intellegunt, non Pompeianos a Sulla magis quam sese esse defensos.

And this, judges, you can understand from this large gathering of colonists, men of the highest standing, who attend, who are anxious, who, if they could not have this man, the patron, defender, guardian of that colony, safe in all his fortune and all his honour, yet in this disaster in which he lies stricken, wish that through you he be helped and saved. Present with equal zeal are the men of Pompeii, who themselves are dragged into the charge by these prosecutors — who differed about their walks and their voting from the colonists in such a way that they yet thought the same about the common safety.

atque hoc, iudices, ex hac frequentia colonorum, honestissimorum hominum, intellegere potestis, qui adsunt, laborant, hunc patronum, defensorem, custodem illius coloniae si in omni fortuna atque omni honore incolumem habere non potuerunt, in hoc tamen casu in quo adflictus iacet per vos iuvari conservarique cupiunt. adsunt pari studio Pompeiani, qui ab istis etiam in crimen vocantur; qui ita de ambulatione ac de suffragiis suis cum colonis dissenserunt ut idem de communi salute sentirent.

And I do not think this virtue of Publius Sulla either is to be passed over in silence: that, although that colony was led out by him, and although the fortune of the commonwealth has divided the interests of the colonists from the interests of the men of Pompeii, he is so dear and welcome to both that he seems not to have moved one party but to have settled both. “But the gladiators and that whole show of force was being prepared on account of the law of Caecilius.” And in this place he inveighed vehemently against Lucius Caecilius, that most modest and most honourable man. Of his virtue and steadfastness, judges, this much I say: that he was such, in that bill which he had promulgated — not for taking away but for relieving his brother’s disaster — that he wished to consult his brother’s interest, but did not wish to fight the commonwealth. He promulgated it driven by brotherly love; he gave it up, drawn back by his brother’s authority.

ac ne haec quidem P. Sullae mihi videtur silentio praetereunda esse virtus, quod, cum ab hoc illa colonia deducta sit, et cum commoda colonorum a fortunis Pompeianorum rei publicae fortuna diiunxerit, ita carus utrisque est atque iucundus ut non alteros demovisse sed utrosque constituisse videatur. at enim et gladiatores et omnis ista vis rogationis Caeciliae causa comparabatur. atque hoc loco in L. Caecilium, pudentissimum atque ornatissimum virum, vehementer invectus est. cuius ego de virtute et constantia, iudices, tantum dico, talem hunc in ista rogatione quam promulgarat non de tollenda, sed de levanda calamitate fratris sui fuisse ut consulere voluerit fratri, cum re publica pugnare noluerit; promulgarit impulsus amore fraterno, destiterit fratris auctoritate deductus.

And in this matter, through Lucius Caecilius, Sulla is being accused, in a matter where each is to be praised. First Caecilius — well? “He promulgated a bill in which he seemed to wish to rescind a verdict, that Sulla might be restored.” You rebuke him rightly: for the standing of the commonwealth is held together by nothing more than judgments. Nor do I think that so much should be granted to brotherly love that any man, while he consults his own people’s safety, should desert the common safety. But he was bringing forward nothing about the verdict; he was bringing forward that punishment for canvassing which had recently been laid down by previous laws. So by this bill not the verdict of the judges, but the harshness of the law was being corrected. No one rebukes the verdict when he complains of the punishment, but the law. For the condemnation, which stood, is the judges’; the punishment, which was being lightened, is the law’s.

atque in ea re per L. Caecilium Sulla accusatur in qua re est uterque laudandus. primum Caecilius—quid? ’id promulgavit in quo res iudicatas videbatur voluisse rescindere, ut restitueretur Sulla.’ recte reprehendis; status enim rei publicae maxime iudicatis rebus continetur; neque ego tantum fraterno amori dandum arbitror ut quisquam, dum saluti suorum consulat, communem relinquat. at nihil de iudicio ferebat, sed poenam ambitus eam referebat quae fuerat nuper superioribus legibus constituta. itaque hac rogatione non iudicum sententia, sed legis vitium corrigebatur. nemo iudicium reprehendit, cum de poena queritur, sed legem. damnatio est enim iudicum, quae manebat, poena legis, quae levabatur.

Do not therefore alienate from this case the spirits of those orders that preside over the courts with the highest weight and dignity. No one tried to weaken the judgment, nothing of that kind was promulgated; Caecilius always thought, in his brother’s disaster, that the power of the judges should be perpetuated, that the harshness of the law should be softened. But why argue more at length on this? I should say, perhaps, and easily and gladly should I say it, if Lucius Caecilius’s affection and brotherly love had carried him a little further than the limit of daily duty demands. I should call upon your feelings; I should bring forward each man’s indulgence to his own; I should ask pardon for Lucius Caecilius’s fault out of your inmost thoughts and out of common humanity.

noli igitur animos eorum ordinum qui praesunt iudiciis summa cum gravitate et dignitate alienare a causa. nemo labefactare iudicium est conatus, nihil est eius modi promulgatum, semper Caecilius in calamitate fratris sui iudicum potestatem perpetuandam, legis acerbitatem mitigandam putavit. sed quid ego de hoc plura disputem? dicerem fortasse, et facile et libenter dicerem, si paulo etiam longius quam finis cotidiani offici postulat L. Caecilium pietas et fraternus amor propulisset, implorarem sensus vestros, unius cuiusque indulgentiam in suos testarer, peterem veniam errato L. Caecili ex intimis vestris cogitationibus atque ex humanitate communi.

The law was put up for a few days, was never moved to a vote, was withdrawn in the senate. On the Kalends of January, when we had convened the senate at the Capitol, nothing was acted on first, and on Sulla’s instructions Quintus Metellus the praetor said he was speaking for him: that Sulla did not wish that bill to be carried about himself. From that time Lucius Caecilius did much in the public interest. To the agrarian law (which was thrown back and rejected throughout by me) he professed that he would be the obstructor; he resisted wicked donations; he never blocked the senate’s authority; he conducted himself in the tribunate so that, with the burden of his domestic duty laid down, he thought thereafter of nothing but the advantages of the commonwealth.

lex dies fuit proposita paucos, ferri coepta numquam, deposita est in senatu. Kalendis Ianuariis cum in Capitolium nos senatum convocassemus, nihil est actum prius, et id mandatu Sullae Q. Metellus praetor se loqui dixit Sullam illam rogationem de se nolle ferri. ex illo tempore L. Caecilius egit de re publica multa; agrariae legi, quae tota a me reprehensa et abiecta est, se intercessorem fore professus est, improbis largitionibus restitit, senatus auctoritatem numquam impedivit, ita se gessit in tribunatu ut onere deposito domestici offici nihil postea nisi de rei publicae commodis cogitarit.

And in the bill itself, that nothing should be done by violence — which of us then was afraid of Sulla or of Caecilius? Did not all that terror, all the fear and reputation of sedition, hang upon Autronius’s wickedness? His voices, his threats were carried about; his look, his running to and fro, his retinue, his herds of ruined men brought us fear and the threat of seditions. So Publius Sulla was forced, by this most graceless partner and companion of his honour and now of his disaster, both to lose his prosperous fortunes and to remain in adverse ones without any remedy or relief.

atque in ipsa rogatione ne per vim quid ageretur, quis tum nostrum Sullam aut Caecilium verebatur? nonne omnis ille terror, omnis seditionis timor atque opinio ex Autroni improbitate pendebat? eius voces, eius minae ferebantur, eius aspectus, concursatio, stipatio, greges hominum perditorum metum nobis seditionesque adferebant. itaque P. Sulla hoc importunissimo cum honoris tum etiam calamitatis socio atque comite et secundas fortunas amittere coactus est et in adversis sine ullo remedio atque adlevamento permanere.

Here you read out often a letter of mine which I sent to Gnaeus Pompeius about my own deeds and about the supreme commonwealth, and you look in it for some charge against Publius Sulla; and if I wrote that an incredible madness conceived two years before had broken out in my consulship, you say that I demonstrated by this that Sulla was in that earlier conspiracy. So am I, evidently, the man who would suppose that Gnaeus Piso and Catiline and Vargunteius and Autronius could do nothing wickedly, nothing audaciously, by themselves and on their own, without Publius Sulla.

hic tu epistulam meam saepe recitas quam ego ad Cn. Pompeium de meis rebus gestis et de summa re publica misi, et ex ea crimen aliquod in P. Sullam quaeris et, si furorem incredibilem biennio ante conceptum erupisse in meo consulatu scripsi, me hoc demonstrasse dicis, Sullam in illa fuisse superiore coniuratione. scilicet ego is sum qui existimem Cn. Pisonem et Catilinam et Vargunteium et Autronium nihil scelerate, nihil audacter ipsos per sese sine P. Sulla facere potuisse.

As to him, even if anyone had earlier doubted whether he had thought what you charge — that with your father killed he should come down as consul on the Kalends of January with lictors — you yourself have removed this suspicion, when you said that this man, that he might bring Catiline to the consulship, prepared bands and a band of men against your father. And if I should grant you this, you must grant me that this man, when he was supporting Catiline, thought nothing of recovering by violence his own consulship which he had lost in court. For the charge of those great and fearful crimes, judges, the person of Publius Sulla does not assume.

de quo etiam si quis dubitasset antea an id quod tu arguis cogitasset, ut interfecto patre tuo consul descenderet Kalendis Ianuariis cum lictoribus, sustulisti hanc suspicionem, cum dixisti hunc, ut Catilinam consulem efficeret, contra patrem tuum operas et manum comparasse. quod si tibi ego confitear, tu mihi concedas necesse est hunc, cum Catilinae suffragaretur, nihil de suo consulatu, quem iudicio amiserat, per vim recuperando cogitavisse. neque enim istorum facinorum tantorum, tam atrocium crimen, iudices, P. Sullae persona suscipit.

For now I shall, since the charges have been almost all unloosed — contrary to what is wont to happen in other cases — speak at this last point of the man’s life and character. For from the beginning my mind was eager to meet the magnitude of the charge, to satisfy men’s expectation, to say something about myself who was being prosecuted. Now you must be called back to that to which the case itself, even with me silent, calls you to turn your minds and thoughts. In all things, judges, that are graver and greater, what each man wished, thought, did, must be weighed not from the charge but from the character of the man being accused. For no one of us can be feigned suddenly, nor can any man’s life be changed all at once, or his nature converted.

iam enim faciam criminibus omnibus fere dissolutis, contra atque in ceteris causis fieri solet, ut nunc denique de vita hominis ac de moribus dicam. etenim de principio studuit animus occurrere magnitudini criminis, satis facere exspectationi hominum, de me aliquid ipso qui accusatus eram dicere; nunc iam revocandi estis eo quo vos ipsa causa etiam tacente me cogit animos mentisque convertere. omnibus in rebus, iudices, quae graviores maioresque sunt, quid quisque voluerit, cogitarit, admiserit, non ex crimine, sed ex moribus eius qui arguitur est ponderandum. neque enim potest quisquam nostrum subito fingi neque cuiusquam repente vita mutari aut natura converti.

Look around for a moment in your minds — to leave aside others — at these very men who have been involved in this wickedness. Catiline conspired against the commonwealth. Whose ears have ever rejected this? — that the man dared in his audacity who from boyhood lived in every kind of infamy, in stupration, in slaughter, not only by intemperance and crime but by habit and zeal? Who wonders that he died fighting against his country, whom all always thought born to civil brigandage? Who, recalling Lentulus’s partnerships with informers, the madness of his lusts, his perverted and impious religion, would wonder that the man either thought wickedly or hoped foolishly? Who, thinking of Gaius Cethegus and his journey to Spain and the wounding of Quintus Metellus Pius, sees not that the prison was built for his punishment?

circumspicite paulisper mentibus vestris, ut alia mittamus, hosce ipsos homines qui huic adfines sceleri fuerunt. Catilina contra rem publicam coniuravit. cuius aures umquam haec respuerunt? conatum esse audacter hominem a pueritia non solum intemperantia et scelere sed etiam consuetudine et studio in omni flagitio, stupro, caede versatum? quis eum contra patriam pugnantem perisse miratur quem semper omnes ad civile latrocinium natum putaverunt? quis Lentuli societates cum indicibus, quis insaniam libidinum, quis perversam atque impiam religionem recordatur qui illum aut nefarie cogitasse aut stulte sperasse miretur? quis de C. Cethego atque eius in Hispaniam profectione ac de volnere Q. Metelli Pii cogitat cui non ad illius poenam carcer aedificatus esse videatur?

I leave the rest, lest the count be endless. I ask only this of you: that silently you think of all those who are known to have conspired. You will see that each one of them has been condemned by his own life sooner than by your suspicion. That very Autronius (since his name is the most akin to this man’s danger and charge) — did not his own life and nature convict him? Always audacious, wanton, lustful; whom in defending stuprations we know to have used not only most wicked words but even fists and feet; who used to drive men out of their possessions, to make slaughter of his neighbours, to plunder the shrines of allies, to break up trials with retinue and arms, to despise all in prosperity, in adversity to fight against good men, not to yield to the commonwealth, not to bend before fortune itself. If his case were not held by the most manifest of facts, yet his own character and life would convict him.

omitto ceteros, ne sit infinitum; tantum a vobis peto ut taciti de omnibus quos coniurasse cognitum est cogitetis; intellegetis unum quemque eorum prius ab sua vita quam vestra suspicione esse damnatum. ipsum illum Autronium, quoniam eius nomen finitimum maxime est huius periculo et crimini, non sua vita ac natura convicit? semper audax, petulans, libidinosus; quem in stuprorum defensionibus non solum verbis uti improbissimis solitum esse scimus verum etiam pugnis et calcibus, quem exturbare homines ex possessionibus, caedem facere vicinorum, spoliare fana sociorum, comitatu et armis disturbare iudicia, in bonis rebus omnis contemnere, in malis pugnare contra bonos, non rei publicae cedere, non fortunae ipsi succumbere. huius si causa non manifestissimis rebus teneretur, tamen eum mores ipsius ac vita convinceret.

Come now: compare with that man’s life the life of Publius Sulla, very well known, judges, both to you and to the Roman people, and set it before your eyes. Is there any deed of his, any act, I do not say more audacious, but that any man would think a little less considered? It is the deed I ask after; what word ever fell from his mouth in which any man could be offended? But indeed, in that grievous and turbulent victory of Lucius Sulla, who was found gentler, who more merciful, than Publius Sulla? How many men’s lives did he beg from Lucius Sulla! How many great men, of the highest distinction, of our own and of the equestrian order, were there for whose safety he bound himself to Sulla! Whom I should name — for they themselves do not refuse, and they are present here, of mind most grateful — but, because the kindness is greater than a citizen ought to be able to bestow on a citizen, I therefore beg of you that what he was able to do, you grant to the time; what he did, to himself.

agedum, conferte nunc cum illius vita vitam P. Sullae vobis populoque Romano notissimam, iudices, et eam ante oculos vestros proponite. ecquod est huius factum aut commissum non dicam audacius, sed quod cuiquam paulo minus consideratum videretur? factum quaero; verbum ecquod umquam ex ore huius excidit in quo quisquam posset offendi? at vero in illa gravi L. Sullae turbulentaque victoria quis P. Sulla mitior, quis misericordior inventus est? quam multorum hic vitam est a L. Sulla deprecatus! quam multi sunt summi homines et ornatissimi et nostri et equestris ordinis quorum pro salute se hic Sullae obligavit! quos ego nominarem—neque enim ipsi nolunt et huic animo gratissimo adsunt—sed, quia maius est beneficium quam posse debet civis civi dare, ideo a vobis peto ut quod potuit, tempori tribuatis, quod fecit, ipsi.

Why should I recall the steadfastness of his remaining life, his dignity, his liberality, his moderation in private affairs, his splendour in public? Things which were so disfigured by fortune that yet they appear, by nature, begun. What a house, what daily company, what dignity of intimates, what zeal of friends, what a multitude from every order! All this, sought long and much and with much labour, one hour stripped from him. Publius Sulla received, judges, a wound vehement and mortal, but yet such as his life and nature seemed to have been able to receive. For too great a desire of honour and dignity was judged to have been in him; which, if no one else had it in seeking the consulship, he was judged to have been more eager than the rest; but if there was that love of the consulship in some others as well, fortune was perhaps in his case heavier than in others.

quid reliquae constantiam vitae commemorem,dignitatem, liberalitatem, moderationem in privatis rebus, splendorem in publicis? quae ita deformata sunt a fortuna ut tamen a natura inchoata compareant. quae domus, quae celebratio cotidiana, quae familiarium dignitas, quae studia amicorum, quae ex quoque ordine multitudo! haec diu multumque et multo labore quaesita una eripuit hora. accepit P. Sulla, iudices, volnus vehemens et mortiferum, verum tamen eius modi quod videretur huius vita et natura accipere potuisse. honestatis enim et dignitatis habuisse nimis magnam iudicatus est cupiditatem; quam si nemo alius habuit in consulatu petendo, cupidior iudicatus est hic fuisse quam ceteri; sin etiam in aliis non nullis fuit iste consulatus amor, fortuna in hoc fuit fortasse gravior quam in ceteris.

But after that, who has seen Publius Sulla but mournful, downcast, broken? who has ever suspected that he avoids the sight of men and the light of life more from hatred than from shame? When he had many invitations of the city and Forum because of the highest zeal of his friends — which alone of all things was left him in his troubles — yet he was absent from your sight, and, when he was kept by law, almost punished himself with exile. In this man’s modesty, judges, in this life, would you believe that there was room for so great a wickedness? Look at him; gaze on his face; compare the charge with the life; recognize the life unfolded from beginning to this present time, set against the charge.

postea vero quis P.Sullam nisi maerentem, demissum adflictumque vidit, quis umquam est suspicatus hunc magis odio quam pudore hominum aspectum lucemque vitare? qui cum multa haberet invitamenta urbis et fori propter summa studia amicorum, quae tamen ei sola in malis restiterunt, afuit ab oculis vestris et, cum lege retineretur, ipse se exsilio paene multavit. in hoc vos pudore, iudices, et in hac vita tanto sceleri locum fuisse credatis? aspicite ipsum, contuemini os, conferte crimen cum vita, vitam ab initio usque ad hoc tempus explicatam cum crimine recognoscite.

I leave aside the commonwealth, which was always to Sulla most dear: did he wish his friends, men such as these, so eager for him, by whom his prosperous affairs were once adorned, by whom now his adverse ones are propped up, to perish most cruelly — so that with Lentulus and Catiline and Cethegus he should pass a most foul and most miserable life with the basest death set before him? It does not, I say, fall upon these morals, upon this modesty, upon this life, upon this man, that suspicion. A new monstrous thing arose; an incredible and singular madness it was; out of many vices of ruined men collected from youth, suddenly that great and fierce harshness of unheard-of wickedness blazed out.

Mitto rem publicam, quae fuit semper Sullae carissima; hosne amicos, talis viros, tam cupidos sui, per quos res eius secundae quondam erant ornatae, nunc sublevantur adversae, crudelissime perire voluit, ut cum Lentulo et Catilina et Cethego foedissimam vitam ac miserrimam turpissima morte proposita degeret? non, inquam, cadit in hos mores, non in hunc pudorem, non in hanc vitam, non in hunc hominem ista suspicio. nova quaedam illa immanitas exorta est, incredibilis fuit ac singularis furor, ex multis ab adulescentia conlectis perditorum hominum vitiis repente ista tanta importunitas inauditi sceleris exarsit.

Do not, judges, suppose that this onset and attempt was that of human beings — for no nation has ever been so barbarous or so monstrous that not many, but even one such cruel enemy of his country has been found in it. Certain monsters from the realm of portent, savage and wild, took on the form of men. Look very carefully, judges — for there is nothing that can be said in this case more vehemently — look deep into the minds of Catiline, Autronius, Cethegus, Lentulus, the rest. What lusts, what infamies, what foulnesses you will find in them; how great audacities, how incredible madnesses; what marks of crimes, what tokens of parricide, what heaps of wickedness! Out of the great and lasting and now despaired-of diseases of the commonwealth that violence suddenly burst forth, so that, with these things finished and cast out, the state might at last grow strong again and be healed. For there is no one who would think that, with those plagues shut up within the commonwealth, things could have stood any longer. So certain Furies drove them not to the perfecting of their crime, but to the paying of the commonwealth’s penalties.

nolite, iudices, arbitrari hominum illum impetum et conatum fuisse—neque enim ulla gens tam barbara aut tam immanis umquam fuit in qua non modo tot, sed unus tam crudelis hostis patriae sit inventus—, beluae quaedam illae ex portentis immanes ac ferae forma hominum indutae exstiterunt. perspicite etiam atque etiam, iudices,—nihil enim est quod in hac causa dici possit vehementius— penitus introspicite Catilinae, Autroni, Cethegi, Lentuli ceterorumque mentis; quas vos in his libidines, quae flagitia, quas turpitudines, quantas audacias, quam incredibilis furores, quas notas facinorum, quae indicia parricidiorum, quantos acervos scelerum reperietis! ex magnis et diuturnis et iam desperatis rei publicae morbis ista repente vis erupit, ut ea confecta et eiecta convalescere aliquando et sanari civitas posset; neque enim est quisquam qui arbitretur illis inclusis in re publica pestibus diutius haec stare potuisse. itaque eos non ad perficiendum scelus, sed ad luendas rei publicae poenas Furiae quaedam incitaverunt.

Into this herd, then, will you now, judges, cast Publius Sulla — out of these herds of most honourable men with whom he lives and has lived; out of this number of friends, out of this dignity of intimates, will you transfer him to the side of the impious, to the seat and number of parricides? Where then will be that strongest defence of modesty, in what place will the life one has led benefit us, against what time will the fruits of an acquired estimation be saved up, if in the last crisis and battle of fortune it deserts us, if it is not present, if it gives no help?

in hunc igitur gregem vos nunc P. Sullam, iudices, ex his qui cum hoc vivunt atque vixerunt honestissimorum hominum gregibus reicietis, ex hoc amicorum numero, ex hac familiarium dignitate in impiorum partem atque in parricidarum sedem et numerum transferetis? Vbi erit igitur illud firmissimum praesidium pudoris, quo in loco nobis vita ante acta proderit, quod ad tempus existimationis partae fructus reservabitur, si in extremo discrimine ac dimicatione fortunae deseret, si non aderit, si nihil adiuvabit?

Examinations of slaves and torture the prosecutor threatens us with. In which, although we suspect no danger, yet pain steers those tortures, each man’s nature of mind and body controls them, the questioner rules them, lust bends them, hope corrupts them, fear weakens them — so that in such narrows of circumstance no place is left for truth. Let Publius Sulla’s life be put to the rack; let inquiry be made of it whether some lust is hidden, whether some crime lies low, whether any cruelty, whether any audacity. There will be no error in this case, no obscurity, judges, if the voice of his unbroken life — which ought to be most truthful and most weighty — is heard from you.

quaestiones nobis servorum accusator et tormenta minitatur. in quibus quamquam nihil periculi suspicamur, tamen illa tormenta gubernat dolor, moderatur natura cuiusque cum animi tum corporis, regit quaesitor, flectit libido, corrumpit spes, infirmat metus, ut in tot rerum angustiis nihil veritati loci relinquatur. vita P. Sullae torqueatur, ex ea quaeratur num quae occultetur libido, num quod lateat facinus, num quae crudelitas, num quae audacia. nihil erroris erit in causa nec obscuritatis, iudices, si a vobis vitae perpetuae vox, ea quae verissima et gravissima debet esse, audietur.

No witness in this case do we fear; we suppose that no man knows anything, has seen anything, has heard anything. But yet, if the fortune of Publius Sulla does not move you, judges, let your own move you. For yours — you who have lived with the highest elegance and integrity — it most concerns that the cases of honourable men be not weighed from the lust or partisanship or fickleness of witnesses, but that in great inquiries and sudden dangers each man’s life be the witness. Which life, judges, do not you, stripped and bared of its arms, expose to malice, give over to suspicion. Fortify the common citadel of good men, block the refuges of the wicked. Let life have the highest weight, both for punishment and for safety, which alone you see can most easily be examined of itself, by its own nature, and cannot suddenly be bent and feigned.

nullum in hac causa testem timemus, nihil quemquam scire, nihil vidisse, nihil audisse arbitramur. sed tamen, si nihil vos P. Sullae fortuna movet, iudices, vestra moveat. vestra enim, qui cum summa elegantia atque integritate vixistis, hoc maxime interest, non ex libidine aut simultate aut levitate testium causas honestorum hominum ponderari, sed in magnis disquisitionibus repentinisque periculis vitam unius cuiusque esse testem. quam vos, iudices, nolite armis suis spoliatam atque nudatam obicere invidiae, dedere suspicioni; munite communem arcem bonorum, obstruite perfugia improborum; valeat ad poenam et ad salutem vita plurimum, quam solam videtis per se ex sua natura facillime perspici, subito flecti fingique non posse.

What, then? — this authority (for of this often must be spoken, though by me timidly and modestly), this authority, I say, of mine, who have abstained from the rest of the conspiracy cases, defends Publius Sulla — shall this not at all profit him? It is hard, perhaps, judges, hard to say this if we are aiming at something; if, when the rest are silent about us, we ourselves do not also keep silent, hard. But if we are injured, if we are accused, if we are called into odium, surely you will grant, judges, that we be allowed to keep our liberty, if we are not allowed our dignity.

quid vero? haec auctoritas—saepe enim est de ea dicendum, quamquam a me timide modiceque dicetur—quid? inquam, haec auctoritas nostra, qui a ceteris coniurationis causis abstinuimus, P. Sullam defendimus, nihil hunc tandem iuvabit? grave est hoc dictu fortasse, iudices, grave, si appetimus aliquid; si, cum ceteri de nobis silent, non etiam nosmet ipsi tacemus, grave; sed, si laedimur, si accusamur, si in invidiam vocamur, profecto conceditis, iudices, ut nobis libertatem retinere liceat, si minus liceat dignitatem.

All consulars have been accused under one head, so that now the very name of the highest office seems to bring more odium than dignity. “They were present for Catiline,” he says, “and praised him.” No conspiracy was then open, none known. They were defending a friend, were standing by a suppliant; they were not pursuing the disgrace of his life in the supreme dangers to him. Indeed, your father, Torquatus, when he was consul, was Catiline’s advocate when Catiline was on trial for extortion — a wicked man, but a suppliant, perhaps audacious, but for once a friend. To whom, when he stood by him after that first conspiracy had been reported to him, he showed that he had heard something but had not believed it. “But the same man did not stand by him at another trial, when others did stand by him.” If afterwards he himself had learned something which in his consulship he had not known, those who afterwards heard nothing must be pardoned. But if that earlier matter weighed with him, was it less, when older, weighty than when fresh? But if your father — even in the very suspicion of his own danger — yet, drawn by humanity, honoured the advocacy of a most wicked man with his curule chair and his ornaments, his own and the consulship’s, what reason is there why the consulars who stood by Catiline should be rebuked?

accusati sunt uno nomine omnes consulares, ut iam videatur honoris amplissimi nomen plus invidiae quam dignitatis adferre. ’ adfuerunt,’ inquit, ’Catilinae illumque laudarunt.’ nulla tum patebat, nulla erat cognita coniuratio; defendebant amicum, aderant supplici, vitae eius turpitudinem in summis eius periculis non insequebantur. quin etiam parens tuus, Torquate, consul reo de pecuniis repetundis Catilinae fuit advocatus, improbo homini, at supplici, fortasse audaci, at aliquando amico. cui cum adfuit post delatam ad eum primam illam coniurationem, indicavit se audisse aliquid, non credidisse. ’ at idem non adfuit alio in iudicio, cum adessent ceteri.’ si postea cognorat ipse aliquid quod in consulatu ignorasset, ignoscendum est eis qui postea nihil audierunt; sin illa res prima valuit, num inveterata quam recens debuit esse gravior? sed si tuus parens etiam in ipsa suspicione periculi sui tamen humanitate adductus advocationem hominis improbissimi sella curuli atque ornamentis et suis et consulatus honestavit, quid est quam ob rem consulares qui Catilinae adfuerunt reprendantur?

“But the same men did not stand by those who pleaded their cases on the conspiracy before this man.” To men bound by so great a wickedness they decided that no help, no resource, no aid should be brought from them. And to speak of the steadfastness and spirit toward the commonwealth of those whose silent gravity and good faith speaks for each one and needs no man’s ornament of speech — can anyone ever say there have been better, braver, steadier consulars than at these times and in these dangers in which the commonwealth was almost crushed? Who did not feel for the common safety in the best, in the bravest, in the steadiest way? Nor do I argue specially of consulars; for this is the common praise both of those most distinguished men who were praetors and of the whole senate — so that it stands fixed, since the memory of men, that there was never in that order more virtue, more love of the commonwealth, more weight. But because consulars have been singled out, on these alone I thought I must say so much as would suffice to attest the memory of all: that there is no one of that grade of office who has not laid himself, with all zeal, virtue, authority, to the saving of the commonwealth.

’ at idem eis qui ante hunc causam de coniuratione dixerunt non adfuerunt.’ tanto scelere astrictis hominibus statuerunt nihil a se adiumenti, nihil opis, nihil auxili ferri oportere. atque ut de eorum constantia atque animo in rem publicam dicam quorum tacita gravitas et fides de uno quoque loquitur neque cuiusquam ornamenta orationis desiderat, potest quisquam dicere umquam meliores, fortiores, constantiores consularis fuisse quam his temporibus et periculis quibus paene oppressa est res publica? quis non de communi salute optime, quis non fortissime, quis non constantissime sensit? neque ego praecipue de consularibus disputo; nam haec et hominum ornatissimorum, qui praetores fuerunt, et universi senatus communis est laus, ut constet post hominum memoriam numquam in illo ordine plus virtutis, plus amoris in rem publicam, plus gravitatis fuisse; sed quia sunt descripti consulares, de his tantum mihi dicendum putavi quod satis esset ad testandam omnium memoriam, neminem esse ex illo honoris gradu qui non omni studio, virtute, auctoritate incubuerit ad rem publicam conservandam.

But what of me? — I, who did not praise Catiline, who did not stand by Catiline as consul on trial, who gave evidence of the conspiracy against others. Do I seem to you so estranged from sanity, so forgetful of my own steadfastness, so unmindful of my deeds, that I, who as consul have waged war with the conspirators, should now wish to save their leader and bring my mind to it — whose iron lately I beat back, whose flame I quenched, that same man’s case and life should I now defend? If, by my faith in heaven, judges, the commonwealth itself, saved by my labours and dangers, did not call me back by its dignity to gravity of mind and steadfastness, yet this is implanted in nature: that whom you have feared, with whom you have contended for life and fortunes, out of whose plots you have escaped — him you always hate. But when my highest honour is at stake, the singular glory of my deeds; when, as often as a man is convicted of this wickedness, so often is the memory renewed of the safety found through me — shall I be so deranged, shall I bring it about that the things I did for the safety of all shall seem to have been done by me by chance and good luck rather than by virtue and counsel?

sed quid ego? qui Catilinam non laudavi, qui reo Catilinae consul non adfui, qui testimonium de coniuratione dixi in alios, adeone vobis alienus a sanitate, adeo oblitus constantiae meae, adeo immemor rerum a me gestarum esse videor ut, cum consul bellum gesserim cum coniuratis, nunc eorum ducem servare cupiam et animum inducam, cuius nuper ferrum rettuderim flammamque restinxerim, eiusdem nunc causam vitamque defendere? si me dius fidius, iudices, non me ipsa res publica meis laboribus et periculis conservata ad gravitatem animi et constantiam sua dignitate revocaret, tamen hoc natura est insitum ut, quem timueris, quicum de vita fortunisque contenderis, cuius ex insidiis evaseris, hunc semper oderis. sed cum agatur honos meus amplissimus, gloria rerum gestarum singularis, cum, quotiens quisque est in hoc scelere convictus, totiens renovetur memoria per me inventae salutis, ego sim tam demens, ego committam ut ea quae pro salute omnium gessi, casu magis et felicitate a me quam virtute et consilio gesta esse videantur?

“What then? Do you take this on yourself,” someone perhaps will say, “that, because you defend him, he is to be judged innocent?” I, indeed, judges, not only take nothing on myself in which any man would resist me, but, if anything is granted by all, I give it back and remit it. I am not so situated in the commonwealth, not in such times have I exposed my head to all the dangers for my country, not are the men I conquered so wholly extinguished, nor those I saved so wholly grateful, that I should attempt to claim more for myself than what all my enemies and detractors will endure.

’ quid ergo? hoc tibi sumis,’ dicet fortasse quispiam, ’ut, quia tu defendis, innocens iudicetur?’ ego vero, iudices, non modo mihi nihil adsumo in quo quispiam repugnet sed etiam, si quid ab omnibus conceditur, id reddo ac remitto. non in ea re publica versor, non eis temporibus caput meum obtuli pro patria periculis omnibus, non aut ita sunt exstincti quos vici aut ita grati quos servavi, ut ego mihi plus appetere coner quam quantum omnes inimici invidique patiantur.

It seems hard that the man who tracked down the conspiracy, who exposed it, who put it down, to whom the senate has given thanks in singular words, to whom alone in his toga it has decreed a thanksgiving, should say in court: “I should not be defending him, if he had conspired.” I do not say what is hard; I say what in these conspiracy cases I assume not to my authority but to my modesty: “I, that famed tracker-down and avenger of the conspiracy, certainly should not be defending Sulla, if I thought he had conspired.” I, judges, when, of all the dangers to all, I sought all things, heard many things, did not believe all, took precaution against all — I say what I said at the beginning: from no informer’s word, from no message, from no suspicion, from no letter has any matter about Publius Sulla been brought to me.

grave esse videtur eum qui investigarit coniurationem, qui patefecerit, qui oppresserit, cui senatus singularibus verbis gratias egerit, cui uni togato supplicationem decreverit, dicere in iudicio: ’non defenderem, si coniurasset.’ non dico id quod grave est, dico illud quod in his causis coniurationis non auctoritati adsumam, sed pudori meo: ’ego ille coniurationis investigator atque ultor certe non defenderem Sullam, si coniurasse arbitrarer.’ ego, iudices, de tantis omnium periculis cum quaererem omnia, multa audirem, crederem non omnia, caverem omnia, dico hoc quod initio dixi, nullius indicio, nullius nuntio, nullius suspicione, nullius litteris de P. Sulla rem ullam ad me esse delatam.

Wherefore you, gods of my fathers and household gods, who watch over this city and this commonwealth, who have saved this empire, this liberty, the Roman people, these houses and temples, by your power and aid in my consulship — you I take to witness that I am defending Publius Sulla’s case with mind unblemished and free, that no crime is being concealed by me knowingly, no wickedness undertaken against the safety of all is being defended and covered. Nothing about him as consul did I learn, nothing did I suspect, nothing did I hear.

quam ob rem vos, di patrii ac penates, qui huic urbi atque huic rei publicae praesidetis, qui hoc imperium, qui hanc libertatem, qui populum Romanum, qui haec tecta atque templa me consule vestro numine auxilioque servastis, testor integro me animo ac libero P. Sullae causam defendere, nullum a me sciente facinus occultari, nullum scelus susceptum contra salutem omnium defendi ac tegi. nihil de hoc consul comperi, nihil suspicatus sum, nihil audivi.

And so I, the same man who seemed vehement against others, inexorable against the rest, have paid my country what I owed; what remains is now owed by me to the unbroken habit and nature of myself. As merciful am I, judges, as you; as mild as the gentlest. In what I have been vehement with you, I have done nothing but what I was forced to do; I came to the help of the commonwealth in its tottering; I lifted up the country submerged. Drawn by mercy for our citizens, we were then as vehement as it was necessary to be. The safety of all would have been lost in one night, had not that severity been undertaken. But as I was led by love for the commonwealth to the punishment of the wicked, so by my own will I am led to the safety of the innocent.

itaque idem ego ille qui vehemens in alios,qui inexorabilis in ceteros esse visus sum, persolvi patriae quod debui; reliqua iam a me meae perpetuae consuetudini naturaeque debentur; tam sum misericors, iudices, quam vos, tam mitis quam qui lenissimus; in quo vehemens fui vobiscum nihil feci nisi coactus, rei publicae praecipitanti subveni, patriam demersam extuli; misericordia civium adducti tum fuimus tam vehementes quam necesse fuit. salus esset amissa omnium una nocte, nisi esset severitas illa suscepta. sed ut ad sceleratorum poenam amore rei publicae sum adductus, sic ad salutem innocentium voluntate deducor.

I see nothing in this Publius Sulla, judges, worthy of hatred — many things worthy of mercy. For he does not now flee in supplication to you, judges, for the warding-off of his disaster, but that no mark of unholy disgrace be branded on his stock and name. For himself, indeed, if he is freed by your judgment, what ornaments has he, what consolations of the rest of his life by which he can rejoice and have full enjoyment? His house will be adorned, I take it; the portraits of his ancestors will be opened up; he himself will recover his old adornment and dress. All these things, judges, are lost; all the marks and ornaments of his stock, name, honour have died by the disaster of one trial. But that he should not be called the destroyer of his country, nor traitor, nor enemy; that he leave not the stain of so great a wickedness on his family — that he labours at; that he fears: that this poor man should at last be named the son of a conspirator, of a profligate, of a traitor; for this boy, who is dearer to him than his own life, he fears, to whom he will not pass on the unbroken fruits of office — that he leave not an eternal memory of disgrace.

nihil video esse in hoc P. Sulla, iudices, odio dignum, misericordia digna multa. neque enim nunc propulsandae calamitatis suae causa supplex ad vos, iudices, confugit, sed ne qua generi ac nomini suo nota nefariae turpitudinis inuratur. nam ipse quidem, si erit vestro iudicio liberatus, quae habet ornamenta, quae solacia reliquae vitae quibus laetari ac perfrui possit? domus erit, credo, exornata, aperientur maiorum imagines, ipse ornatum ac vestitum pristinum recuperabit. omnia, iudices, haec amissa sunt, omnia generis, nominis, honoris insignia atque ornamenta unius iudici calamitate occiderunt. sed ne exstinctor patriae, ne proditor, ne hostis appelletur, ne hanc labem tanti sceleris in familia relinquat, id laborat, id metuit, ne denique hic miser coniurati et conscelerati et proditoris filius nominetur; huic puero qui est ei vita sua multo carior metuit, cui honoris integros fructus non sit traditurus, ne aeternam memoriam dedecoris relinquat.

This little one begs of you, judges, that you allow him at last, if not on his father’s whole fortune, at least on his shattered fortune, to give congratulations. To this poor child the paths of trials and the Forum are better known than those of the Field and of his lessons. The contention is no longer about the life of Publius Sulla, judges, but about his burial. Life has been snatched from him in the earlier trial; now we strive that his body not be cast out. For what is left to him to hold him in this life, or what is there for which this life should seem worth anything to anyone? Lately Publius Sulla was such a man in the state that no one set himself before him in office or favour or fortune; now stripped of all dignity, he does not seek back what was snatched. What fortune in his troubles has left to him — that he may, with his parent, with his children, with his brother, with these connections, mourn his disaster — that you, judges, he beseeches you not to snatch from him.

hic vos orat, iudices, parvus, ut se aliquando si non integra fortuna, at ut adflicta patri suo gratulari sinatis. huic misero notiora sunt itinera iudiciorum et fori quam campi et disciplinarum. non iam de vita P. Sullae, iudices, sed de sepultura contenditur; vita erepta est superiore iudicio, nunc ne corpus eiciatur laboramus. quid enim est huic reliqui quod eum in hac vita teneat, aut quid est quam ob rem haec cuiquam vita videatur? nuper is homo fuit in civitate P. Sulla ut nemo ei se neque honore neque gratia neque fortunis anteferret, nunc spoliatus omni dignitate quae erepta sunt non repetit; quod fortuna in malis reliqui fecit, ut cum parente, cum liberis, cum fratre, cum his necessariis lugere suam calamitatem liceat, id sibi ne eripiatis vos, iudices, obtestatur.

You yourself, Torquatus, ought by now to have had your fill of this man’s miseries, and even if you had taken from Sulla nothing else but his consulship, yet you ought to have been content with that — for it was a contest of office, not of enmity, that drew you to the case. But when everything has been stripped from him together with his office, when in this most miserable and most lamentable fortune he has been left desolate, what is there that you would seek further? Do you wish to snatch from him this enjoyment of light, full of tears and grief, in which with the greatest torment and pain he is held back? He would gladly have given it up, if the disgrace of a most foul charge had been removed. Or do you wish to drive away an enemy? whose miseries, were you the cruellest of men, you would take more pleasure in seeing than in hearing of.

te ipsum iam, Torquate, expletum huius miseriis esse par erat et, si nihil aliud Sullae nisi consulatum abstulissetis, tamen eo vos contentos esse oportebat; honoris enim contentio vos ad causam, non inimicitiae deduxerunt. sed cum huic omnia cum honore detracta sint, cum in hac fortuna miserrima ac luctuosissima destitutus sit, quid est quod expetas amplius? Lucisne hanc usuram eripere vis plenam lacrimarum atque maeroris, in qua cum maximo cruciatu ac dolore retinetur? libenter reddiderit adempta ignominia foedissimi criminis. an vero inimicum ut expellas? cuius ex miseriis, si esses crudelissimus, videndo fructum caperes maiorem quam audiendo.

O the wretched and unhappy day on which Publius Sulla by all the centuries was declared consul; o false hope, o swift fortune, o blind desire, o congratulation backward and untimely! how quickly all those things fell back from joy and pleasure into mourning and tears, so that he who a little before had been consul-designate suddenly kept no trace of his former dignity! For what evil was there that could seem to be lacking to this man, stripped of fame, honour, fortunes? or what room was left for any new disaster? The same fortune that began urges him on, has found out a new grief, does not allow this disaster-stricken man to perish broken by one evil and in one mourning.

O miserum et infelicem illum diem quo consul omnibus centuriis P. Sulla renuntiatus est, o falsam spem, o volucrem fortunam, o caecam cupiditatem, o praeposteram gratulationem! quam cito illa omnia ex laetitia et voluptate ad luctum et lacrimas recciderunt, ut, qui paulo ante consul designatus fuisset, repente nullum vestigium retineret pristinae dignitatis! quid enim erat mali quod huic spoliato fama, honore, fortunis deesse videretur? aut cui novae calamitati locus ullus relictus? Vrget eadem fortuna quae coepit, repperit novum maerorem, non patitur hominem calamitosum uno malo adflictum uno in luctu perire.

But now I myself am hindered, judges, by grief of mind from saying more about his misery. Yours now is the part, judges; in your gentleness and humanity I lay the whole case down. You, after challenges had been interposed, sat down upon us as sudden judges, we suspecting nothing — chosen by the prosecutors for their hope of harshness, set by fortune as our defence of innocence. As I laboured for what the Roman people might think of me (because I had been severe against the wicked), and as the first defence of an innocent man that was offered I took up, so do you mitigate by mildness and mercy the severity of the trials which through these months have been carried out against the most audacious of men.

sed iam impedior egomet, iudices, dolore animi ne de huius miseria plura dicam. vestrae sunt iam partes, iudices, in vestra mansuetudine atque humanitate causam totam repono. vos reiectione interposita nihil suspicantibus nobis repentini in nos iudices consedistis, ab accusatoribus delecti ad spem acerbitatis, a fortuna nobis ad praesidium innocentiae constituti. Vt ego quid de me populus Romanus existimaret, quia severus in improbos fueram, laboravi et, quae prima innocentis mihi defensio est oblata, suscepi, sic vos severitatem iudiciorum quae per hos mensis in homines audacissimos facta sunt lenitate ac misericordia mitigate.

As the case itself ought to obtain this from you, so it is the part of your spirit and virtue to make plain that you are not those to whom, after the challenges had been interposed, it was best fitting to come. In which I, judges — so much as my love for you demands — exhort you, by our common zeal, since we are joined in the commonwealth, to drive away from us by our gentleness and mercy the false reputation of cruelty.

hoc cum a vobis impetrare causa ipsa debet, tum est vestri animi atque virtutis declarare non esse eos vos ad quos potissimum interposita reiectione devenire convenerit. in quo ego vos, iudices, quantum meus in vos amor postulat, tantum hortor ut communi studio, quoniam in re publica coniuncti sumus, mansuetudine et misericordia nostra falsam a nobis crudelitatis famam repellamus.

C icero by Claude

For Publius Sulla

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