In the Senate after his Return (16-18)

Lucius Piso, did you dare at that time with that eye (I will not say with that mind ) with that forehead (I will not say with what character,) and with that arrogance (for I cannot say, after such achievements,) to unite with Aulus Gabinius in forming plans for my ruin? Did not the odour of that man's perfumes, or his breath reeking with wine, or his forehead marked with the traces of the curling-iron, lead you to think that as you were like him in reality, you were no longer able to use the impenetrability of your countenance to conceal such enormous atrocities? Did you dare to continue with that man to abandon the consular dignity,—the existing condition of the republic,—the authority of the senate,—the fortunes of a citizen who had above all others deserved well of the republic, to the provinces? While you

were consul, according to your edicts and commands, it was not allowed to the Roman senate or people to come to the assistance of the republic, I will not say by their votes and their authority, but even by their grief and their mourning garb.

Did you think that you were consul at Capua, a city where there was once the abode of arrogance, or at Rome, where all the consuls that ever existed before you were obedient to the senate? Did you dare, when you were brought forward in the Flaminian Circus, with your colleague, to say that you had always been merciful? by which expression you declared that the senate and all virtuous men were cruel at the time that I warded off ruin from the republic. You were a merciful man when you handed me over,—me, your own relation,—me, whom at your comitia you had appointed as chief guardian of the prerogative tribe, whose opinions on the calends of January you had asked then, bound and helpless to the enemies of the republic! You repelled my son-in-law, your own kinsman; you repelled your own near relation, my daughter, with most haughty and inhuman language, from your knees; and you, also, O man of singular mercy and clemency, when I, together with the republic, had fallen, not by a blow aimed by a tribune, but by a wound inflicted by a consul, behaved with such wickedness and such intemperance, that you did not allow one single hour to elapse between the time of my disaster and your plunder; you did not allow even time for the lamentations and groans of the city to die away.

It was not yet openly known that the republic had fallen, when you thought fit to arrange its interment. At one and the same moment my house was plundered and set on fire, my property from my house on the Palatine Hill was taken to the house of the consul who was my neighbour, the goods from my Tusculan villa were also taken to the house of my neighbour there, the other consul; when, while the same mob of artisans were giving their votes, the same gladiator proposing and passing laws, the forum being unoccupied, not only by virtuous men, but even by free citizens, and being entirely empty, the Roman people being utterly ignorant what was going on, the senate being beaten down and crushed, there being two wicked and impious consuls, the treasury, the prisoners, the legions, allies and military commands, were given away as they pleased.

But the ruin wrought by these consuls you, O consuls, have prevented from spreading further by your virtue, being assisted as you have been by the admirable loyalty and diligence of the tribunes of the people and the praetors.