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ruin. I am indeed struck with that light of the senate.

What, Sextus, do you imagine I am angry with you, who have treated my greatest enemy with more severity than the humanity of my temper could have allowed me to have required? You threw the bloody body of P. Clodius out of his house, you exposed it to public view in the streets, you left it by night prey to the dogs, half consumed with unhallowed wood, stript of its images, and deprived of the usual encomiums and funeral pomp. This, though it is true you did it out of mere necessity, I cannot commend yet as my enemy was the object of your cruelty, I ought not certainly to be angry with you. You saw there was the greatest reason to dread a revolution in the state from the prætorship of Clodius, unless the man who had both courage and power to controul him, were chosen consul. When all the Roman people were convinced that Milo was the man, what citizen could have hesitated a moment about giving him his vote, when by that vote he at once relieved his own fears, and delivered the republic from the utmost danger? But now Clodius is taken off, it requires extraordinary efforts in Milo to support his dignity. That singular honour by which he was distinguished, and which daily increased by his repressing the outrages of the Clodian faction, vanished with the death of Clodius. You have gained this advantage, that there is now no citizen you have to fear; while Milo has lost a fine field for displaying his valour, the interest that supported his election, and a perpetual source of glory. Accordingly, Milo's election to the consulate, which could never have been hurt while Clodius was living, begins now upon his death to be disputed. Milo, therefore, is so far from receiving any benefit from Clodius's death, that he is really a sufferer by it. But it may be said that hatred prevailed, that anger and resentment urged him on, that he avenged his own wrongs, and redressed his own grievances. Now if all these particulars may be applied not merely with greater propriety to Clodius than to Milo, but with the utmost propriety to the one, and not the least to the other; what more can you desire? For why should Milo bear any other hatred to Clodius, who furnished him with such a rich

harvest of glory, but that which every patriot must bear to all bad men? As to Clodius, he had motives enough for bearing ill-will to Milo; first, as my protector and guardian; then as the opposer of his mad schemes, and the controuler of his armed force; and lastly, as his accuser. For while he lived, he was liable to be convicted by Milo upon the Plotian Law. With what patience, do you imagine, such an imperious spirit could bear this? How high must his resentment have risen, and with what justice too, in so great an enemy to justice?

It remains now to consider what arguments their natural temper and behaviour will furnish out in defence of the one, and for the conviction of the other. Clodius never made use of any violence, Milo never carried any point without it. What then, my lords, when I retired from this city, leaving you in tears for my departure, did I fear standing a trial: and not rather the insults of Clodius's slaves, the force of arms, and open violence? What reason could there be for restoring me, if he was not guilty of injustice in banishing me? He had summoned me, I know he had, to appear upon my trial; had set a fine upon me, had brought an action of treason against me, and I had reason to fear the event of a trial in a cause that was neither glorious for you, nor very ho nourable for myself. No, my lords, this was not the case; I was unwilling to expose my countrymen whom I had saved by my counsels and at the hazard of my life, to the swords of slaves, indigent citizens, and a crew of ruffians. For I saw, yes, I myself beheld this very Q. Hortensius, the light and ornament of the repub lic, almost murdered by the hands of slaves while he waited on me: and it was in the same tumult, that C. Vibienus, a senator of great worth, who was in his company, was handled so roughly, that it cost him his life. When, therefore, has that dag ger which Clodius received from Cataline, rested in its sheath? it has been aimed at me; but I would not suffer you to expose yourselves to its rage on my account; with it he lay in wait for Pompey, and stained the Appian way, that monument of the Clodian family, with the blood of Papi rius. The same, the very same weapon was, after a long distance of time, again turned against me; and you know how narrowly I escaped being destroyed by it

lately

lately at the palace. What now of this kind can be laid to Milo's charge? whose force has only been employed to save the state from the violence of Clodius, when he could not be brought to a trial. Had he been inclined to kill him, how often had he the fairest opportunities of doing it? Might he not legally have revenged himself upon him, when he was defending his house and household gods against his as sault? might he not, when that excellent citizen and brave man, P. Sextus his colleague, was wounded? might he not, when Q. Fabricius, that worthy man, was abused, and a most barbarous slaughter made in the forum, upon his proposing the law for my restoration? might he not, when the house of L. Cæcilius, that upright and brave prætor, was attacked? might he not on that day when the law passed in relation to me? when a vast concourse of people from all parts of Italy, animated with a concern for my safety, would, with joyful voice, have celebrated the glory of the action, and the whole city have claimed the honour of what was performed by Milo alone?

At that time P. Lentullus, a man of distinguished worth and bravery, was consul; the professed enemy of Clodius, the avenger of his crimes, the guardian of the senate, the defender of your decrees, the supporter of that public union, and the restorer of my safety: there were seven prætors, and eight tribunes of the people in my interest, in opposition to him. Pompey, the first mover and patron of my return, was his enemy; whose important and illustrious decrce for my restoration was seconded by the whole senate; who encouraged the Roman people, and when he passed a decree in my favour at Capua, gave the signal to all Italy, solicitous for my safety, and imploring his assistance in my behalf, to repair in a body to Rome to have my sentence reversed. In a word, the citizens were then so inflamed with rage against him from their affection to me, that had he been killed at that juncture, they would not have thought so much of acquitting as of rewarding the person by whose hand he fell. And yet Milo so far governed his temper, that though he prosecuted him twice in a court of judicature, he never had recourse to violent measures against him. But what do I say? while Milo was a private person, and stood accused by Clodius before the people, when Pompey was assaulted in the midst

of a speech he was making in Milo's favour, what a fair opportunity, and I will even add, suflicient reason was there for dispatching him? Again, when Mark Antony had, on a late occasion, raised in the minds of all good men the most lively hopes of seeing the state in a happier condition; when that noble youth had bravely undertaken the defence of his country in a most dangerous quarter, and had actually secured that wild beast in the toils of justice, which he endeavoured to avoid: Immortal gods! how favourable was the time and place for destroying him? When Clodius concealed himself beneath a dark staircase, how easily could Milo have destroyed that plague of his country, and thus have heightened the glory of Antony, without incurring the hatred of any? How often was it in his power, while the comitia were held in the field of Mars? when Clodius had forced his way within the inclosure, and his party began, by his direction, to draw their swords and throw stones; and then on a sudden, being struck with terror at the sight of Milo, fled to the Tiber, how earnestly did you and every good man wish that Milo had then displayed his valour?

Can you imagine then that Milo would chuse to incur the ill-will of any, by an action which he forbore when it would have gained him the applause of all? Would he make no scruple of killing him at the hazard of his own life, without any provocation, at the most improper time and place, whom he did not venture to attack when he had justice on his side, and so convenient an opportunity, and would have run no risque? especially, my lords, when his struggle for the supreme office in the state, and the day of his election was at hand; at which critical season (for I know by experience how timorous ambition is, and what a solicitous concern there is about the consulate) we dread not only the charges that may openly be brought against us, but even the most secret whispers and hidden surmises; when we tremble at every rumour, every false, forged, and frivolous story; when we explore the features, and watch the looks of every one we meet. For nothing is so changeable, so ticklish, so frail, and so flexible, as the inclinations and sentiments of our fellowcitizens upon such occasions; they are not only displeased with the dishonourable conduct of a candidate, but are often disgusted with his most worthy actions. Shall Milo

then

then be supposed, on the very day of election, a day which he had long wished for and impatiently expected, to present himself before that august assembly of the centuries, having his hands stained with blood, publicly acknowledging and proclaiming his guilt? Who can believe this of the man? yet who can doubt, but that Clodus imagined he should reign without controul, were Milo murdered? What shall we say, my lords, to that which is the source of all audaciousness? Does not every one know, that the hope of impunity is the grand temptation to the commission of crimes? Now which of these two was the most exposed to this? Milo, who is now upon his trial for an action which must be deemed at least necessary, if not glorious; or Clodius, who had so thorough a contempt for the authority of the magistrate, and for penalties, that he took delight in nothing that was either agreeable to nature or consistent with law? But why should I labour this point so much, why dispute any longer? I appeal to you, Q. Petilius, who are a most worthy and excellent citizen; I call you, Marcus Cato, to witness; both of you placed on that tribunal by a kind of supernatural direction. You were told by M. Favonius, that Clodius declared to him, and you were told it in Clodius's lifetime, that Milo should not live three days longer. In three days time he attempted what he had threatened: if he then made no scruple of publishing his design, can you entertain any doubt of it when it was actually carried into execution?

But how could Clodius be certain as to the day? This I have already accounted for. There was no difficulty in knowing when the dictator of Lanuvium was to perform his stated sacrifices. He saw that Milo was obliged to set out for Lanuvium on that very day. Accordingly he was beforehand with him. But on what day? that day, on which, as I mentioned before, a mad assembly was held by his mercenary tribune; which day, which assembly, which tumult, he would never have left, if he had not been eager to execute his meditated villainy. So that he had not the least pretence for undertaking the journey, but a strong reason for staying at home. while Milo, on the contrary, could not possibly stay, and had not only a sufficient reason for leaving the city, but was under an absolute necessity of doing it. Now what if it appear that, as Clodius certainly

knew Milo would be on the road that day, Milo could not so much as suspect the same of Clodius? First then, I ask which way he could come at the knowledge of it? A question which you cannot put, with respect to Clodius. For had he applied to nobody else, T. Patinas, his intimate friend, could have informed him, that Milo, as being dictator of Lanuvium, was obliged to create a priest there on that very day. Besides, there were many other persons, all the inhabitants of Lanuvium indeed, from whom he might have very easily had this piece of intelligence. But of whom did Milo enquire of Clodius's return? I shall allow, however, that he did enquire; nay, I shall grant farther, with my friend Ar rius, so liberal am I in my concessions, that he corrupted a slave. Read the evidence that is before you; C. Cassinius, of the Interamna, surnamed Scola, an intimate friend and companion of P. Clodius, who swore on a former occasion that Clodius was at Interamna and at Rome at the same hour, tells you that P. Clodius intended to have spent that day at his seat near Alba, but that hearing very unexpectedly of the death of Cyrus the archi tect, he determined immediately to retur to Rome. The same evidence is given in by C. Clodius, another companion of P. Clodius.

Observe, my lords, how much this evi dence makes for us. In the first place, it plainly appears, that Milo did not undertake his journey with a design to way-lay Clodius, as he could not have the least prospect of meeting him. In the next place (for I see no reason why I should not likewise speak for myself) you know, my lords, there were persons who in their zeal for carrying on this prosecution did not scruple to say, that though the murder was committed by the hand of Milo, the plot was laid by a more eminent person. În a word, those worthless and abandoned wretches represented me as a robber and assassin. But this calumny is confuted by their own witnesses, who deny that Clo dius would have returned to Rome that day, if he had not heard of the death of Cyrus. Thus I recover my spirits; I am acquitted, and am under no apprehensions, lest I should seem to have contrived what I could not so much as have suspected. Proceed I now to their other objections; Clodius, say they, had not the least thought of way-laying Milo, because he was to have remained at Albanum, and would

kever have gone from his country-seat to commit a murder. But I plainly perceive that the person who is pretended to have informed him of Cyrus's death, only informed him of Milo's approach. For why inform him of the death of Cyrus, whom Clodius, when he went from Rome, left expiring? I was with him, and sealed uphis will along with Clodius; for he had publicly made his will, and appointed Clodius and me his heirs. Was a messenger sent him then by four o'clock the next day to acquaint him with the death of a person, whom but the day before, about nine in the morning, he had left breathing his last?

Allowing it however to be so, what reason was there for hurrying back to Rome? For what did he travel in the night-time? what occasioned all this dispatch? was it because he was the heir? In the first place, this required no hurry; and, in the next, if it had, what could he have got that night, which he must have lost, had he come to Rome only next morning? And as a journey to town in the night was rather to be avoided than desired by Clodius, so if Milo had formed any plot against his enemy, and had known that he was to return to town that evening, he would have stopped and waited for him. He might have killed him by night in a suspicious place, infested with robbers. Nobody could have disbelieved him if he had denied the fact, since even after he has confessed it, every one is concerned for his safety. First of all, the place itself would have been charged with it, being a haunt and retreat for robbers; while the silent solitude and shades of night must have concealed Milo: and then as such numbers have been assaulted and plundered by Clodius, and so many others were apprehensive of the like treatment, the suspicion must naturally have fallen upon them; and, in short, all Etruria might have been prosecuted. But it is certain that Clodius, in his return that day from Aricia, called at Albanum. Now though Milo had known that Clodius had left Aricia, yet he had reason to suspect that he would call at his seat which lies upon the road, even though he was that day to return to Rome. Why then did he not either meet him sooner and prevent his reaching it, or post himself where he was sure Clodius was to pass in the night-time? Thus far, my lords, every circumstance concurs to prove that it was for Milo's

interest Clodius should live; that on the contrary, Milo's death was a most desirable event for answering the purposes of Clodius; that on one side there was a most implacable hatred, on the other not the least; that the one had been continually employing himself in acts of violence, the other only in opposing them; that the life of Milo was threatened, and his death publicly foretold by Clodius, whereas nothing of that kind was ever heard from Milo; that the day fixed for Milo's journey was well known to his adversary, while Milo knew nothing when Clodius was to return; that Milo's journey was necessary, but that of Clodius rather the contrary; that the one openly declared his intention of leaving Rome that day, while the other concealed his intention of returning; that Milo made no alteration in his measures, but that Clodius feigned an excuse for altering his; that if Milo had designed to way-lay Clodius, he would have waited for him near the city till it was dark, but that Clodius, even if he had been under no apprehensions from Milo, ought to have been afraid of coming to town so late at night.

Let us now consider the principal point, whether the place where they encountered was most favourable to Milo, or to Clodius. But can there, my lords, be any room for doubt, or for any farther deliberation upon that? It was near the estate of Clodius, where at least a thousand ablebodied men were employed in his mad schemes of building. Did Milo think he should have an advantage by attacking him from an eminence, and did he for this reason pitch upon that spot for the engagement? or was he not rather expected in that place by his adversary, who hoped the situation would favour his assault? The thing, my lords, speaks for itself, which must be allowed to be of the greatest importance in determining a question. Were the affair to be represented only by painting, instead of being expressed by words, it would even then clearly appear which was the traitor, and which was free from all mischievous designs. When the one was sitting in his chariot muffled up in his cloak, and his wife along with him-Which of these circumstances was not a very great incumbrance? the dress, the chariot, or the companion? How could he be worse equipped for an engagement, when he was wrapt up in a cloak, embarrassed with a

chariot,

chariot, and almost fettered by his wife? Observe the other now, in the first place, sallying out on a sudden from his scat; for what reason? in the evening; what urged him? late; to what purpose, especially at that season? He calls at Pompey's seat; with what view? To see Pompey? He knew he was at Alsium. To see his house? He had been in it a thousand times. What then could be the reas son of this loitering and shifting about? He wanted to be upon the spot when Milo came up.

Now please to compare the travelling equipage of a determined robber with that of Milo. Clodius, before that day, always travelled with his wife; he was then without her: he never used to travel but in his chariot; he was then on horseback: he was attended with Greeks wherever he went, even when he was hurrying to the Tuscan camp; at that time he had nothing insignificant in his retinue. Milo contrary to his usual manner, happened then to take with him his wife's singers, and a whole train of her women: Clodius, who never failed to carry his whores, his catamites, and his bawds along with him, was then attended by none but those who scemed to be picked out by one another. How came he then to be overcome? Because the traveller is not always killed by the robber, but sometimes the robber by the traveller; because, though Clodius was prepared, and fell upon those who were unprepared, yet Clodius was but a woman, and they were men. Nor indeed was Milo ever so little unprepared, as not to be a match for him almost at any time. Ile was always sensible how much it was Clodius's interest to get rid of him, what an inveterate hatred he bore to him, and what audacious attempts he was capable of; and therefore as he knew that a price was set upon his life, and that it was in a manner devoted to destruction, he never exposed it to any danger without a guard. Add to this effect of accidents, the uncertain issue of all combats, and the common chance of war, which often turns against the victor, even when ready to plunder and triumph over the vanquished. Add the unskilfulness of a gluttonous, drunken, stupid leader, who when he had surrounded his adversary, never thought of his attendants that were behind; from whom, fired with rage, and despairing of their master's life, he suffered the punishment which those faithful slaves inflicted

in revenge for their master's death. Why then did he give them their freedom! He was afraid, I suppose, lest they should betray him, lest they should not be able to endure pain, lest the torture should oblige them to confess that P. Clodius was killed by Milo's servants on the Appian way. But what occasion for torture? what was you to extort? If Clodius was killed? he was: but whether law fully or unlawfully, can never be determined by torture. When the question relates to the matter of fact, we may have recourse to the executioner; but when to a point of equity, the judge must decide.

Let us then here examine into what is to be the subject of enquiry in the present case; for as to what you would extort by torture, we confess it all. But if you ask why he gave them their freedom, rather than why he bestowed so small a reward upon them, it shews that you do not even know how to find fault with this action of your adversary. For M. Cato, who sits on this bench, and who always speaks with the utmost resolution and steadiness, said, and said it in a tumultuous assembly, which however was quelled by his authority, that those who had defended their master's life, well deserved not only their liberty, but the highest rewards. For what reward can be great enough for such affec tionate, such worthy and faithful servants, to whom their master is indebted for his life? And which is yet a higher obligation, to whom he owes it, that his most inveterate enemy has not feasted his eyes. and satiated his wishes, with the sight of his mangled bloody corse. Who, if they had not been made free, these deliverers of their master, these avengers of guilt, these defenders of innocent blood, must have been put to the torture. It is mat ter, however, of no small satisfaction to him, under his present misfortunes, to re flect, that whatever becomes of himself, he has had it in his power to reward them as they deserved. But the torture that is now inflicting in the porch of the temple of Liberty, bears hard upon Milo. Upon whose slaves is it inflicted? do you ask! on those of P. Clodius. Who demanded them? Appius. Who produced them? Appius. From whence came they? from Appius. Good gods! can any thing be more severe? Servants are never examined against their masters but in cases of incest, as in the instance of Clodius, who now ap proaches nearer the gods, than when he

made

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