Therefore, that same fellow whom Cnaeus Dolabella afterwards, when Caius Malleolus
had been slain, had for his quaestor, (I know not whether this connection was not
even a closer one than the connection with Carbo, and whether the consideration of
his having been voluntarily chosen is not stronger than that of his having been
chosen by lot,) behaved to Cnaeus Dolabella in the same manner as he had behaved in
to Cnaeus Carbo. For, the charges which properly touched himself, he transferred to
his shoulders; and gave information of everything connected with his cause to his
enemies and accusers. He himself gave most hostile and most infamous evidence
against the man to whom he had been lieutenant and pro-quaestor. Dolabella,
unfortunate as he was, through his abominable betrayal, through his infamous and
false testimony, was injured far more than by either, by the odium created by that
fellow's own thefts and atrocities.
What can you do with such a man? or what hope can you allow so perfidious, so
ill-omened an animal to entertain? One who despised and trampled on the lot which
bound him to Cnaeus Carbo, the choice which connected him with Cnaeus Dolabella, and
not only deserted them both, but also betrayed and attacked them. Do not, I beg of
you, O judges, judge of his crimes by the brevity of my speech rather than by the
magnitude of the actions themselves. For I am forced to make haste in order to have
time to set before you all the things which I have resolved to relate to you.
Wherefore, now that his quaestorship has been put before you, saw that the
dishonesty and wickedness of his first conduct in his first office has been
thoroughly seen, listen, I pray you, to the remainder.
And in this I will pass over that period of proscription and rapine which took
place under Sulla; nor will I allow him to derive any argument for his own defence
from that time of common calamity to all men. I will accuse him of nothing but his
own peculiar and well-proved crimes. Therefore, omitting all mention of the time of
Sulla from the accusation, consider that splendid lieutenancy of his. After
Cilicia was appointed to Cnaeus Dolabella
as his province, O ye immortal gods! with what covetousness, with what incessant
applications, did he force from him that lieutenancy for himself, which was indeed
the beginning of the greatest calamity to Dolabella. For as he proceeded on his
journey to the province, wherever he went his conduct was such, that it was not some
lieutenant of the Roman people, but rather some calamity that seemed to be going
through the country.
In Achaia, (I will omit all minor things,
to some of which perhaps some one else may some time or other have done something
like; I will mention nothing except what is unprecedented, nothing except what would
appear incredible, if it were alleged against any other criminal,) he demanded money
from a Sicyonian magistrate. Do not let this be considered a crime in Verres; others
have done the tame. When he could not give it, he punished him; a scandalous, but
still not an unheard-of act. Listen to the sort of punishment; you will ask, of what
race of men you are to think him a specimen. He ordered a fire to be made of green
and damp wood in a narrow place. There he left a free man, a noble in his own
country, an ally and friend of the Roman people, tortured with smoke, half dead.
After that, what statues, what paintings he carried off from Achaia, I will not mention at present. There is
another part of my speech which I have reserved for speaking of this covetousness of
the man. You have heard that at Athens a
great sum of money was taken out of the temple of Minerva. This was mentioned in the
trial of Cnaeus Dolabella. Mentioned? the amount too was stated. Of this design you
will find that Caius Verres was not only a partaker, but was even the chief
instigator.
He came to Delos. There from that most
holy temple of Apollo he privately took away by night the most beautiful and ancient
statues, and took care that they were all placed on board his own transport. The
next day, when the inhabitants of Delos
saw their temple plundered, they were very indignant. For the holiness and antiquity
of that temple is so great in their eyes, that they believe that Apollo himself was
born in that place. However, they did not dare to say one word about it, lest haply
Dolabella himself might be concerned in the business. Then on a sudden a very great tempest
arose, O judges; so that Dolabella could not only not depart, when he wished, but
could scarcely stand in the city, such vast waves were dashed on shore. Here that
ship of that pirate loaded with the consecrated statues, being cast up and driven
ashore by the waves, is broken to pieces. Those statues of Apollo were found on the
shore; by command of Dolabella they are restored; the tempest is lulled; Dolabella
departs from Delos.
I do not doubt, though there was no feeling of humanity ever in you, no regard for
holiness, still that now in your fear and danger thoughts of your wicked actions
occurred to you. Can there be any comfortable hope of safety cherished by you, when
you recollect how impious, how wicked, how blasphemous has been your conduct towards
the immortal gods? Did you dare to plunder the Delian Apollo? Did you dare to lay
impious and sacrilegious hands on that temple, so ancient, so venerated, so holy? If
you were not in your childhood taught and framed to learn and know what has been
committed to writing, still would you not afterwards, when you came into the very
places themselves, learn and believe what is handed down both by tradition and by
documents:
That Latona, after a long wandering and
persecution, pregnant, and now near bringing forth, when her time was come, fled to
Delos, and there brought forth Apollo
and Diana; from which belief of men that island is considered sacred to those gods;
and such is and always has been the influence of that religious belief, that not
even the Persians, when they waged war on all Greece, on gods and men, and when they had put in with a fleet of a
thousand ships at Delos, attempted to
violate, or even to touch anything. Did you, O most wicked, O most insane of men,
attempt to plunder this temple? Was any covetousness of such power as to extinguish
such solemn religious belief? And if you did not think of this at that time, do you
not recollect even now that there is no evil so great as not to have been long since
due to you for your wicked actions?