The chief of those men was Publius Lentulus, the parent and god of my life, and fortune, and memory, and name. He thought that the best proof that he could give of his virtue, the best indication that he could afford of his disposition, the greatest ornament with which he could embellish his consulship would be the restoration of me to myself, to my friends, to you, and to the republic. And as soon as ever he was appointed consul elect he never hesitated to express an opinion concerning my safety worthy both of himself and of the republic. When the veto was interposed by the tribune of the people,—when that admirable clause was read: “That no one should make any motion before you that no one should propose any decree to you that no one should raise any discussion, or make any speech or take any vote or frame any law;” he thought all that as I have said before, a proscription and not a law, by which a citizen who had deserved well of the republic was by name and without any trial, taken from the senate and the republic at the same time. But as soon as he entered on his office, I will not say what did he do before, but what else did he do at all, except labour by my preservation to establish your authority and dignity on a firm basis for the future?

O ye immortal gods! what great kindness do you appear to have shown me, in making Publius Lentulus consul this year. How much greater still would your bounty bare been, had he been so the preceding year; for I should not have been in want of such medicine as a consul could give, unless I had fallen by a wound inflicted by a consul. I had been often told by one of the wisest of men and one of the most virtuous of citizens, Quintus Catulus, that it was not often that there was one wicked consul, but that there had never been two at the same time since the foundation of Rome, except in that terrible time of Cinna. Wherefore, he used to say that my interest would always be firmly secured, as long as there was even one virtuous consul in the republic. And he would have spoken the truth, if that state of things with respect to consuls could have remained lasting and perpetual, that, as there never had been two bad ones in the republic, so there never should be. But if Quintus Metellus had been at that time consul, who was then my enemy, do you doubt what would have been his feelings with regard to my preservation, when you see that he was a mover and seconder of the measure proposed for my restoration?

But at that time there were two consuls, whose minds, narrow, contemptible, mean, groveling, dark, and dirty, were unable to look properly at, or to uphold, or to support the mere name of the consulship, much less the splendour of that honour, and the importance of that authority. They were not consuls, but dealers in provinces, and sellers of your dignity. One of whom demanded back from me, in the hearing of many, Catiline, his lover; the other reclaimed Cethegus, his cousin;—the two most wicked men in the memory of man, who (I will not call them consuls, but robbers) not only deserted, in a cause in which, above all others, the welfare of the republic and the dignity of the consulship was concerned, but betrayed me, and opposed me, and wished to see me stripped of all aid, not only from themselves, but also from you and from the other orders of the state. One of them, however, deceived neither me nor any one else.

For who ever could have any hope of any good existing in that man, the earliest period of whose life was made openly subservient to everyone's lusts; who had not the heart to repel the obscene impurity of men from the holiest portion of his person? who, after he had ruined his own estate with no less activity than he afterwards displayed in his endeavours to ruin the republic, supported his indigence and his luxury by every sort of pandering and infamy; who, if he had not taken refuge at the altar of the tribuneship, would not have been able to escape from the authority of the praetor, nor the multitude of his creditors, nor the seizure of his goods. And if he had not while in discharge of that office, passed that law about the piratical war, he, in truth, would have yielded to his own poverty and wickedness, and had recourse to piracy himself; and who would have done so with less injury to the republic than he did by remaining within our walls as an impious enemy and robber. It was he who was inspecting victims, and sitting in the discharge of that duty, when a tribune of the people procured a law to be passed that no regard should be had to the auspices,—that no one should on that account be allowed to interrupt the assembly or the comitia, or to put his veto on the passing of a law; and that the Aelian and Fufian “The Aelia lex and Rufia lex were passed about the end of the sixth century of the city, and gave all magistrates the obnuntiatio, or power of preventing or dissolving the comitia by observing the omens, and declaring them to be unfavourable.”—Smith, Dict. Ant. p. 560, v. Lex. laws should have no validity, which our ancestors had enacted, intending them to be the firmest protection of the republic against the insanity of the tribunes.