for she was the willful murderess who compassed his death: he was the victim who involuntarily came to a violent end. I repeat, gentlemen, a violent end; for he was on the point of sailing from this country and was dining under a friend’s roof, when she, who had sent the poison, with orders that a draught be given him, murdered our father. What pity, then, what consideration, does a woman who refused to pity her own husband, who killed him impiously and shamefully, deserve from you or anyone else?

Involuntary accidents deserve such pity: not deliberately planned crimes and acts of wickedness. Just as this woman put her husband to death without respecting or fearing god, hero, or human being, so she would in her turn reap her justest reward were she herself put to death by you and by justice, without finding consideration, sympathy, or respect.

I am astounded at the shameless spirit shown by my brother. To think that he swore in his mother’s defence that he was sure of her innocence! How could anyone be sure of what he did not witness in person? Those who plot the death of their neighbors do not, I believe, form their plans and make their preparations in front of witnessess; they act as secretly as possible and in such a way that not a soul knows;

while their victims are aware of nothing until they are already trapped and see the doom which has descended upon them. Then, if they are able and have time before they die, they summon their friends and relatives, call them to witness, tell them who the murderers are, and charge them to take vengeance for the wrong;

just as my father charged me, young as I was, during his last sad illness. Failing this, they make a statement in writing, call their slaves to witness, and reveal their murderers to them. My father told me, and laid his charge upon me, gentlemen, not upon his slaves, young though I still was.