But in all this embarrassment, O judges, this thing still consoles me,—that you have been accustomed to hear accusations under the idea that you will afterwards hear their refutation from the advocate; that you are bound not to give the defendant more advantages towards ensuring his acquittal, than his counsel can procure for him by clearing him of the charges brought against him, and by proving his innocence in his speech. But as regards the odium into which they seek to bring him, you ought to deliberate together, considering not what is said by us, but what ought to be said. For while we are dealing with the accusations, it is only the safety of Aulus Cluentius that is at stake; but by the odium sought to be excited against him, the common safety of all men is imperilled. Accordingly, we will treat one division of the case as men who are giving you information, and the other division, as men who are addressing entreaties to you. In the first division we must beg of you to give us your diligent attention; in the second, we must implore the protection of your good faith. There is no one who can withstand the popular feeling when excited against him without the assistance of you and of men like you.

As far as I myself am concerned. I hardly know which way to turn. Shall I deny that there is any ground for the disgraceful accusation, —that the judges were corrupted at the previous trial? Shall I deny that that matter has been agitated at assemblies of the people? that it has been brought before the courts of justice? that it has been mentioned in the senate? Can I eradicate that belief from men's minds? a belief so deeply implanted in them—so long established. It is out of the power of my abilities to do so. It is a matter requiring your aid, O judges; it becomes you to come to the assistance of the innocence of this man attacked by such a ruinous calumny, as you would in the case of a destructive fire or of a general conflagration.