Pro P. Sulla

And this, O judges, you may ascertain from the number of settlers, most honourable men, here present; who are here now, and are anxious and above all things desirous that the man, the patron, the defender, the guardian of that colony, (if they have not been able to see him in the safe enjoyment of every sort of good fortune and every honour,) may at all events, in the present misfortune by which he is attacked, be defended and preserved by your means. The natives of Pompeii are here also with equal eagerness, who are accused as well as he is by the prosecutors; men whose differences with the settlers about walks and about votes have not gone to such lengths as to make them differ also about their common safety.

And even this virtue of Publius Sulla appears to me to be one which ought not to be passed over in silence;—that though that colony was originally settled by him, and though the fortune of the Roman people has separated the interests of the settlers from the fortunes of the native citizens of Pompeii, he is still so popular among, and so much beloved by both parties, that he seems not so much to have dispossessed the one party of their lands as to have settled both of them in that country. “But the gladiators, and all those preparations for violence, were got together because of the motion of Caecilius.” And then he inveighed bitterly against Caecilius, a most virtuous and most accomplished man, of whose virtue and constancy, O judges, I will only say thus much,—that he behaved in such a manner with respect to that motion which he brought forward, not for the purpose of doing away with, but only of relieving his brother's misfortune, that though he wished to consult his brother's welfare, he was unwilling to oppose the interests of the republic; he proposed his law the impulse of brotherly affection, and he abandoned it because he was dissuaded from it by his brother's authority.

And Sulla is accused by Lucius Caecilius, in that business in which both of them deserve praise. In the first place Caecilius, for having proposed a law in which he appeared to wish to rescind an unjust decision; and Sulla, who reproved him, and chose to abide by the decision. For the constitution of the republic derives its principal consistency from formal legal decisions. Nor do I think that any one ought to yield so much to his love for his brother as to think only of the welfare of his own relations, and to neglect the common safety of all. He did not touch the decision already given, but he took away the punishment for bribery which had been lately established by recent laws. And, therefore, by this motion he was seeking, not to rescind a decision, but to correct a defect in the law. When a man is complaining of a penalty, it is not the decision with which he is finding fault but the law. For the conviction is the act of judges, and that is let stand; the penalty is the act of the law, and that may be lightened.

Do not therefore, alienate from your cause the inclinations of those orders of men which preside over the courts of justice with the greatest authority and dignity. No one, has attempted to annul the decision which has been given; nothing of that sort has been proposed. What Caecilius always thought while grieved at the calamity which had befallen his brother, was, that the power of the judges ought to be preserved unimpaired, but that the severity of the law required to be mitigated. But why need I say more on this topic? I might speak perhaps, and I would speak willingly and gladly, if affection and fraternal love had impelled Lucius Caecilius a little beyond the limits which regular and strict duty requires of a man; I would appeal to your feelings, I would invoke the affection which every one feels for his own relations; I would solicit pardon for the error of Lucius Caecilius, from your own inmost thoughts and from the common humanity of all men.

The law was proposed only a few days; it was never begun to be put in train to be carried; it was laid on the table in the senate. On the first of January, when we had summoned the senate to meet in the Capitol, nothing took precedence of it; and Quintus Metellus the praetor said, that what he was saying was by the command of Sulla; that Sulla did

And even in regard to this very motion, who was there of us who had any fears of Sulla or Caecilius attempting to carry any point by violence? Did not all the alarm that existed at that time, all the fear and expectation of sedition, arise from the villainy of Autronius? It was his expressions and his threats which were bruited abroad; it was the sight of him, the multitudes that thronged to him, the crowd that escorted him, and the bands of his abandoned followers, that caused all the fear of sedition which agitated us. Therefore, Publius Sulla, as this most odious man was then his comrade and partner, not only in honour but also in misfortune, was compelled to lose his own good fortune, and to remain under a cloud without any remedy or alleviation.

At this point you are constantly reading passages from my letter, which I sent to Cnaeus Pompeius about my own achievements, and about the general state of the republic; and out of it you seek to extract some charge against Publius Sulla. And because I wrote that an attempt of incredible madness, conceived two years before, had broken out in my consulship, you say that I, by this expression, have proved that Sulla was in the former conspiracy. I suppose I think that Cnaeus Piso, and Catiline, and Vargunteius were not able to do any wicked or audacious act by themselves, without the aid of Publius Sulla!

But even if any one had had a doubt on that subject before, would he have thought (as you accuse him of having done) of descending, after the murder of your father, who was then consul, into the Campus on the first of January with the lictors? This suspicion, in fact you removed yourself, when you said that he had prepared an armed band and cherished violent designs against your father, in order to make Catiline consul. And if I grant you this, then you must grant to me that Sulla, when he was voting for Catiline, had no thoughts of recovering by violence his own consulship, which he had lost by a judicial decision. For his character is not one, O judges, which is at all liable to the imputation of such enormous, of such atrocious crimes.

For I will now proceed, after I have refuted all the charges against him, by an arrangement contrary to that which is usually adopted, to speak of the general course of life and habits of my client. In truth, at the beginning I was eager to encounter the greatness of the accusation, to satisfy the expectations of men, and to say something also of myself, since I too had been accused. But now I mast call you back to that point to which the cause itself, even if I said nothing, would compel you to direct all your attention. In every case, O judges, which is of more serious importance than usual, we must judge a good deal as to what every one has wished, or intended, or done, not from the counts of the indictment but from the habits of the person who is accused. For no one of us can have his character modeled in a moment, nor can any one's course of life be altered, or his natural disposition changed on a sudden.

Survey for a moment in your mind's eye, O judges, (to say nothing of other instances,) these very men who were implicated in this wickedness. Catiline conspired against the republic. Whose ears were ever unwilling to believe in this attempt on the part of a man who had spent his whole life, from his boyhood upwards, not only in intemperance and debauchery, but who had devoted all his energies and all his zeal to every sort of enormity, and lust, and bloodshed? Who marveled that that man died fighting against his country, whom all men had always thought born for civil war? Who is there that recollects the way in which Lentulus was a partner it of informers or the insanity of his caprices or his perverse and impious superstition, who can wonder that he cherished either wicked designs, or insane hopes? Who even thinks of Caius Cethegus and his expedition into Spain and the wound inflicted on Quintus Metellus Pius without seeing that a prison was built on purpose to be the scene of his punishment?

I say nothing of the rest that there may be some end to my instances. I only ask you silently to recollect all those men who are proved to have been in this conspiracy. You will see that every one of those men was convicted by his own manner of life, before be was condemned by our suspicion. And as for Autronius himself, (since his name is the most nearly connected with the danger in which my client is, and with the accusation which is brought against him,) did not the manner in which he had spent all his early life convict him? He had always been audacious, violent profligate. We know that in defending himself in charges of adultery, he was accustomed to use not only the most infamous language, but even his fists and his feet. We know that he had been accustomed to drive men from their estates, to murder his neighbors, to plunder the temples of the allies, to disturb the courts of justice by violence and arms; in prosperity to despise every body, in adversity to fight against all good men; never to regard the interests of the republic, and not to yield even to fortune herself. Even if he were not convicted by the most irresistible evidence, still his own habits and his past life would convict him.

Come now, compare with those men the life of Publius Sulla, well known as it is to you and to all the Roman people; and place it, O judges, as it were before your eyes. Has there ever been any act or exploit of his which has seemed to any one, I will not say audacious, but even rather inconsiderate? Do I say any act? Has any word ever fallen from his lips by which any one could be offended? Yes, even in that terrible and disorderly victory of Lucius Sulla, who was found more gentle or more merciful than Publius Sulla? How many men's wives did he not save by begging them of Lucius Sulla! How many men are there of the highest rank and of the greatest accomplishments, both of our order and of the equestrian body, for whose safety he laid himself under obligations to Lucius Sulla! whom I might name, for they have no objection; indeed they are here to countenance him now, with the most grateful feelings towards him. But because that service is a greater one than one citizen ought to be able to do to another, I entreat of you to impute to the times the fact of his having such power, but to give him himself the credit due to his having exerted it in such a manner.

Why need I speak of the other virtues of his life? of his dignity? of his liberality? of his moderation in his own private affairs? of his splendour on public occasions? For, though in these points he has been crippled by fortune, yet the good foundations laid by nature are visible. What a house was his! what crowds frequented it daily! How great was the dignity of his behaviour to his friends! How great was their attachment to him! What a multitude of friends had he of every order of the people! These things which had been built up by long time and much labour, one single hour deprived him of; Publius Sulla, O judges, received a terrible and a mortal wound; but still it was an injury of such a sort as his way of life and his natural disposition might seem liable to be exposed to. He was judged to have too great a desire for honour and dignity. If no one else was supposed to have such desires in standing for the consulship, then he was judged to be more covetous than the rest. But if this desire for the consulship has existed in some other men also, then, perhaps, fortune was a little more unfavourable to him than to others.

But, after this misfortune, who ever saw Publius Sulla otherwise than grieving, dejected, and out of spirits? Who ever suspected that he was avoiding the sight of men and the light of day, out of hatred, and not rather out of shame? For though he had many temptations to frequent this city and the forum, by reason of the great attachment of his friends to him, the only consolation which remained to him in his misfortunes, still he kept out of your sight; and though he might have remained here as far as the law went he almost condemned himself to banishment. In such modest conduct as this, O judges, and in such a life as this, will you believe that there was any room left for such enormous wickedness? Look at the man himself; behold his countenance. Compare the accusation with his course of life. Compare his life, which has been laid open before you from his birth up to this day, with this accusation.

I say nothing of the republic, to which Sulla has always been most devoted. Did he wish these friends of his, being such men as they are, so attached to him, by whom his prosperity had been formerly adorned, by whom his adversity is now comforted and relieved, to perish miserably, in order that he himself might be at liberty to pass a most miserable and infamous existence in company with Lentulus, and Catiline, and Cethegus, with no other prospect for the future but a disgraceful death? That suspicion is not consistent,—it is, I say, utterly at variance with such habits, with such modesty, with such a life as his, with the man himself. That sprang up, a perfectly unexampled sort of barbarity; it was an incredible and amazing insanity. The foulness of that unheard of

Think not, O judges, that that violence and that attempt was the work of human beings; for no nation ever was so barbarous or so savage, as to have (I will not say so many, but even) one implacable enemy to his country. They were some savage and ferocious beasts, born of monsters, and clothed in human form. Look again and again, O judges; for there is nothing too violent to be said in such a cause as this. Look deeply and thoroughly into the minds of Catiline, Autronius, Cethegus, Lentulus, and the rest. What lusts you will find in these men, what crimes, what baseness, what audacity, what incredible insanity, what marks of wickedness, what traces of parricide, what heaps of enormous guilt! Out of the great diseases of the republic, diseases of long standing, which had been given over as hopeless, suddenly that violence broke out in such a way, that when it was put down and got rid of, the state might again be able to become convalescent and to be cured; for there is no one who thinks that if those pests remained in the republic, the Constitution could continue to exist any longer. Therefore they were some Furies who urged them on, not to complete their wickedness, but to atone to the republic for their guilt by their punishment.

Will you then, O judges, now turn back Publius Sulla into this band of rascals, out of that band of honourable men who are living and have lived as his associates? Will you transfer him from this body of citizens, and from the familiar dignity in which he lives with them, to the party of impious men, to that crew and company of parricides? What then will become of that most impregnable defence of modesty? in what respect will the purity of our past lives be of any use to us? For what time is the reward of the character which a man has gained to be reserved, if it is to desert him at his utmost need, and when he is engaged in a contest in which all his fortunes are at stake—if it is not to stand by him and help him at such a crisis as this?

Our prosecutor threatens us with the examinations and torture of our slaves; and though we do not suspect that any danger can arise to us from them, yet pain reigns in those tortures; much depends on the nature of every one's mind, and the fortitude of a person's body. The inquisitor manages everything; caprice regulates much, hope corrupts them, fear disables them, so that, in the straits in which they are placed, there is but little room left for truth. Is the life of Publius Sulla, then, to be put to the torture? is it to be examined to see what lust is concealed beneath it? whether any crime is lurking under it, or any cruelty, or any audacity? There will be no mistake in our cause, O judges, no obscurity, if the voice of his whole life, which ought to be of the very greatest weight, is listened to by you.

In this cause we fear no witness; we feel sure that no one knows, or has ever seen, or has ever heard anything against us. But still, if the consideration of the fortune of Publius Sulla has no effect on you, O judges, let a regard for your own fortune weigh with you. For this is of the greatest importance to you who have lived in the greatest elegance and safety, that the causes of honourable men should not be judged of according to the caprice, or enmity, or worthlessness of the witnesses; but that in important investigations and sudden dangers, the life of every man should be the most credible witness. And do not you, O judges, abandon and expose it, stripped of its arms, and defenceless, to envy and suspicion. Fortify the common citadel of all good men, block up the ways of escape resorted to by the wicked. Let that witness be of the greatest weight in procuring either safety or punishment for a man, which is the only one that, from its own intrinsic nature, can with ease be thoroughly examined, and which cannot be suddenly altered and remodelled.

What? Shall this authority, (for I must continually speak of that though I will speak of it with timidity and moderation,)—shall, I say, this authority of mine, when I have kept aloof from the cause of every one else accused of this conspiracy, and have defended Sulla alone, be of no service to my client? This is perhaps a bold thing to say, O judges; a bold thing, if we are asking for anything; a bold thing, if, when every one else is silent about us, we will not be silent ourselves. But if we are attacked, if we are accused, if we are sought to be rendered unpopular, then surely, O judges, you will allow us to retain our liberty, even if we cannot quite retain all our dignity.