But I may not avail myself of such an advantage as that, O judges; I may not; for
all Puteoli is here; merchants in
crowds have come to this trial, wealthy and honourable men, who will tell you, some
that their partners, some that their freedmen were plundered by that man, were
thrown into prison, that some were privately murdered in prison, some publicly
executed. See now how impartially I will behave to you. When I produce Publius
Granius as a witness to state that his freedmen were publicly executed by you, to
demand back his ship and his merchandise from you, refute him if you can; I will
abandon my own witness and will take your part; I will assist you, I say, prove that
those men have been with Sertorius, and that, when flying from Dianium, they were driven to Sicily. There is nothing which I would rather have
you prove. For no crime can be imagined or produced against you which is worthy of a
greater punishment.
I will call back the Roman knight, Lucius Flavius, if you wish; since at the
previous pleading, being influenced, as your advocates are in the habit of saying,
by some unusual prudence, but, (as all men are aware,) being overpowered by your own
conscience, and by the authority of my witnesses, you did not put a question to any
single witness. Let Flavius be asked, if you like, who Lucius Herennius was, the man
who, he says, was a money-changer at Leptis; who, though he had more than a hundred Roman citizens in the
body of settlers at Syracuse, who not
only knew him, but defended him with their tears and with entreaties to you, was
still publicly executed by you in the sight of all the Syracusans. I am very willing
that this witness of mine should also be refuted, and that it should be demonstrated
end proved by you that that Herennius had been one of Sertorius's soldiers.
What shall we say of that multitude of those men who were produced with veiled
heads among the pirates and prisoners in order to be executed? What was that new
diligence of yours, and on what account was it put in operation? Did the loud
outcries of Lucius Flavius and the rest about Lucius Herennius influence you? Had
the excessive influence of Marcus Annius, a most influential and most honourable
man, made you a little more careful and more fearful? who lately stated in his
evidence that it was not some stranger, no one knows who, nor any foreigner, but a
Roman citizen who was well known to the whole body of inhabitants, who had been born
at Syracuse, who had been publicly
executed by you.
After this loud statement of theirs,—after this had become known by the common
conversation and common complaints of all men, he began to be, I will not say more
merciful in his punishments, but mere careful. He established the rule of bringing
out Roman citizens for punishment with their heads muffled up, whom, however, he put
to death in the sight of all men, because the citizens (as we have said before) were
calculating the number of pirates with too much accuracy. Was this the condition
that was established for the Roman people while you were praetor? were these the
hopes under which they were to transact their business? was this the danger in which
their lives and condition as freemen were placed? are there not risks enough at the
hands of fortune to be encountered of necessity by merchants, unless they are
threatened also with these terrors by our magistrates, and in our provinces? Was
this the state to which it was decent to reduce that suburban and loyal province of
Sicily, full of most valued allies, and
of most honourable Roman citizens, which has at all times received with the greatest
willingness all Roman citizens within its territories, that those who were sailing
from the most distant parts of Syria or
Egypt, who had been held in some honour, even among barbarians, on account of their
name as Roman citizens, who had escaped from the ambushes of pirates, from the
dangers of tempests, should be publicly executed in Sicily when they thought that they had now reached their home?
For why should I speak of Publius Gavius, a citizen of the municipality of
Cosa, O judges? or with what vigour of
language, with what gravity of expression, with what grief of mind shall I mention
him? But, indeed, that indignation fails me. I must take more care than usual that
what I am going to say be worthy of my subject,—worthy of the indignation which I
feel. For the charge is of such a nature, that when I was first informed of it I
thought I should not avail myself of it. For although I knew that it was entirely
true, still I thought that it would not appear credible. Being compelled by the
tears of all the Roman citizens who are living as traders in Sicily, being influenced by the testimonies of the
men of Valentia, most honourable men, and
by those of all the Rhegians, and of many Roman knights who happened at that time to
be at Messana, I produced at the previous
pleading only just that amount of evidence which might prevent the matter from
appearing doubtful to any one.
What shall I do now? When I have been speaking for so many hours of one class of
offences, and of that man's nefarious cruelty,—when I have now expended nearly all
my treasures of words of such a sort as are worthy of that man's wickedness on other
matters, and have omitted to take precautions to keep your attention on the stretch
by diversifying my accusations, how am I to deal with an affair of the importance
that this is? There is, I think, but one method, but one line open to me. I will
place the matter plainly before you, which is of itself of such importance that
there is no need of my eloquence and eloquence, indeed, I have none, but there is no
need of any one's eloquence to excite your feelings.
This Gavius whom I am speaking of, a citizens of Cosa, when he (among that vast number of Roman citizens who had been
treated in the same way) had been thrown by Verres into prison, and somehow or other
had escaped secretly out of the stone-quarries, and had come to Messana, being now almost within sight of Italy and of the walls of Rhegium, and being revived, after that fear of death
and that darkness, by the light, as it were, of liberty and of the fragrance of the
laws, began to talk at Messana, and to
complain that he, a Roman citizen, had been thrown into prison. He said that he was
now going straight to Rome, and that he
would meet Verres on his arrival there.
The
miserable man was not aware that it made no difference e whether he said this at
Messana, or before the man's face in his
own praetorian palace. For, as I have shown you before, that man had selected this
city as the assistant in his crimes, the receiver of his thefts, the partner in all
his wickedness. Accordingly, Gavius is at once brought before the Mamertine
magistrates; and, as it happened, Verres came on that very day to Messana. The matter is brought before him. He is
told that the man was a Roman citizen, who was complaining that at Syracuse he had been confined in the
stone-quarries, and who, when he was actually embarking on board ship, and uttering
violent threats against Verres, had been brought back by them, and reserved in order
that he himself might decide what should be done with him.
He thanks the men and praises their good-will and diligence in his behalf. He
himself, inflamed with wickedness and frenzy, comes into the forum. His eyes glared;
cruelty was visible in his whole countenance. All men waited to see what does he was
going to take,—what he was going to do; when all of a sudden he orders the man to be
seized, and to be stripped and bound in the middle of the forum, and the rods to be
got ready. The miserable man cried out that he was a Roman citizen, a citizen, also,
of the municipal town of Cosa,—that he had
served with Lucius Pretius a most illustrious Roman knight, who was living as a
trader at Panormus, and from whom
Verres might know that he was speaking the truth. Then Verres says that he has
ascertained that he had been sent into Sicily by the leaders of the runaway slaves, in order to act as a
spy; a matter as to which there was no witness, no trace, nor even the slightest
suspicion in the mind of any one.
Then he orders the man to be most violently scourged on all sides. In the middle of
the forum of Messana a Roman citizen, O
judges, was beaten with rods; while in the mean time no groan was heard, no other
expression was heard from that wretched man, amid all his pain, and between the
sound of the blows, except these words, “I am a citizen of Rome.” He fancied that by this one statement of his
citizenship he could ward off all blows, and remove all torture from his person. He
not only did not succeed in averting by his entreaties the violence of the rods, but
as he kept on repeating his entreaties and the assertion of his citizenship, a
cross—a cross I say—was got ready for that miserable man, who had never witnessed
such a stretch of power.