In the first place, remark the audacity of the man. He was anxious to marry Sassia, the mother of Habitus, her whose husband, Aulus Aurius, he had murdered. It is hard to say whether he who wished such a thing was the more impudent, or she who consented was the more heartless. However, remark the humanity and virtue of both of them.

Oppianicus asks, and most earnestly entreats Sassia to marry him. But she does not marvel at his audacity,—does not scorn and reject his impudence, she is not even alarmed at the idea of the house of Oppianicus, red with her husband's blood; but she says that she has a repugnance to this marriage, because he has three sons. Oppianicus, who coveted Sassia's money, thought that he must seek at home for a remedy for that obstacle which was opposed to his marriage. For as he had an infant son by Novia, and as a second son of his, whom he had had by Papia, was being brought up under his mother's eye at Teanum in Apulia, which is about eighteen miles from Larinum, on a sudden, without alleging any reason, he sends for the boy from Teanum, which he had previously never been accustomed to do, except at the time of the public games, or on days of festival. His miserable mother, suspecting no evil, sends him. He pretended to set out himself to Tarentum; and on that very day the boy, though at the eleventh hour he had been seen in public in good health, died before night, and the next day was burnt before daybreak.

And common report brought this miserable news to his mother before any one of Oppianicus's household brought her news of it. She, when she had heard at one and the same time, that she was deprived not only of her son, but even of the sad office of celebrating his funeral rites, came instantly, half dead with grief, to Larinum, and there performs funeral obsequies over again for her already buried son. Ten days had not elapsed when his other infant son is also murdered; and then Sassia immediately marries Oppianicus, rejoicing in his mind, and feeling confident of the attainment of his hopes. No wonder she married him, when she saw him so eager to propitiate her, not with ordinary nuptial gifts, but with the deaths of his sons. So that other men are often covetous of money for the sake of their children, but that man thought it more agreeable to lose his children for the sake of money.

I see, O judges, that you, as becomes your feelings of humanity, are violently moved at these enormous crimes now briefly related by me. What do you think must have been their feelings who had not only to hear of these wicked deeds, but also to sit in judgment on them? You are hearing of a man, in whose case you are not the judges,—of a man whom you do not see,—of a man whom you now can no longer hate, —of a man who has made atonement to nature and to the laws, whom the laws have punished with banishment, nature with death. You are hearing of these actions, not from any enemy, you are hearing of them without any witnesses being produced; you are hearing of them when those things which might be enlarged upon at the greatest length are stated by me in a brief and summary manner. They were hearing of the actions of a man with reference to whom they were bound to deliver their judgment on oath,—of a man who was present, whose infamous and hardened countenance they were looking upon,—of a man whom they hated on account of his audacity,—of him whom they thought worthy of every possible punishment. They were hearing the relation of these crimes from his accusers; they were hearing the statements of many witnesses; they were hearing a serious and long oration on each separate particular from Publius Canutius, a most eloquent man.

And is there any man who, when he has become acquainted with these things, can suspect that Oppianicus was taken unfair advantage of, and crushed at his trial, though he was innocent? I will now mention all the other things in a lump, O judges, in order to come to those things which are nearer to, and more immediately connected with, this cause. I entreat you to recollect that it was no part of my original intention to bring any accusation against Oppianicus, now that he is dead; but that as I wish to persuade you that the tribunal was not bribed by my client, I use this as the beginning and foundation of my defence,—that Oppianicus was condemned, being a most guilty and wicked man. He himself gave a cup to his own wife Cluentia, who was the aunt of that man Habitus, and she while drinking it cried out that she was dying in the greatest agony; and she lived no longer than she was speaking, for she died in the middle of this speech and exclamation. And besides the suddenness of this death, and the exclamation of the dying woman, everything which is considered a sign and proof of poison was discovered in her body after she was dead.