Even you yourself; O Labienus, what would you do in such a crisis? When your general system of indolence was compelling you to flight and lurking-places, while the villainy and frenzy of Lucius Saturninus was inviting you to the Capitol, while the consuls were summoning you to uphold the safety and liberty of your country; which authority, which invitation, which party would you prefer to follow, whose command would you select to obey? My uncle says he was with Saturninus. What if he was? Whom was your father with?—What if he was? Where were your relations, Roman knights?—What if he was? What was the conduct of all your prefecture, and district, and neighbourhood?—What if he was? What was the conduct of the whole Picene district; did they follow the frenzy of the tribune, or the authority of the consul? In truth, I affirm this; that that which you confess of your uncle, no man has ever yet confessed with respect to himself. No one, I say, has been found so profligate, so abandoned, so entirely destitute, not only of all honesty, but of every resemblance of and pretence to honesty, as to confess that he was in the Capitol with Saturninus. But your uncle was. Let him have been; and let him have been, though not compelled by the desperate condition of his own affairs, or by airy domestic distresses and embarrassments. Suppose it was his intimacy with Lucius Saturninus that induced him to prefer his friendship to his country,—was that a reason for Caius Rabirius also deserting the republic? for his not appearing in that armed multitude of good men? for his refusing obedience to the invitation and command of the consul? But we see that in the nature of things he must have adopted one of these three lines of conduct: he must either have been with Saturninus, or with the good men, or he must have been lying in bed—to lie hid was a state equal to the most infamous death; to be with Saturninus was the act of insanity and wickedness. Virtue, and honour, and shame, compelled him to range himself on the side of the consuls. Do you, therefore, accuse Caius Rabirius on this account, that he was with those men whom he would have been utterly mad to have opposed, utterly infamous if he had deserted them? But Caius Decianus, whom you often mention, was condemned, because, when he was accusing, with the earnest approval of all good men, a man notorious for every description of infamy, Publius Furius, he dared to complain in the assembly of the death of Saturninus. And Sextus Titius was condemned for having an image of Lucius Saturninus in his house. The Roman knights laid it down by that decision that that man was a worthless citizen, and one who ought not to be allowed to remain in the state, who either by keeping his image sought, to do credit to the death of a man who was seditious to such a degree as to become an enemy to the republic, or who sought by pity to excite the regrets of ignorant men, or who showed his own inclination to imitate such villainy.