But when this is reported to Philodamus, although he was ignorant what great misfortune was at that moment being contrived for him and for his children, still he comes to him,—represents to him that that is not his office,—that when it was his turn to receive guests, he was accustomed to receive the praetors and consuls themselves, and not the attendants of lieutenants. Verres, as he was hurried on by that one desire alone, disregarded all his demands and allegations, and ordered Rubrius to be introduced by force into the house of a man who had a right to refuse him admittance. On this, Philodamus, when he could not preserve his rights, studied at least to preserve his courtesy and affability. He who had always been considered most hospitable and most friendly towards our people, did not like to appear to have received even this fellow Rubrius into his house unwillingly; he prepares a banquet magnificently and luxuriously, being, as he was, among the richest of all his fellow citizens; he begs Rubrius to invite whoever were agreeable to himself; to leave, if he pleased, just room for himself alone. He even sends his own son, a most excellent youth, out to one of his relations to supper.

Rubrius invites Verres's companions; Verres informs them all what there was to be done. They come early. They sit down to supper. Conversation takes place among them, and an invitation is given to drink in the Greek fashion. The host encourages them; they demand wine in larger goblets; the banquet proceeds with the conversation and joy of every one. When the business appeared to Rubrius to have got warm enough, “I would know of you, O Philodamus,” says he, “why you do not bid your daughter to be invited in hither to us?” The man, who was both a most dignified man, and of mature age, and a parent, was amazed at the speech of the rascal. Rubrius began to urge it. Then he, in order to give some answer, said that it was not the custom of the Greeks for women to sit down at the banquets of men. On this some one else from some other part of the room cried out, “But this is not to be borne; let the women be summoned.” And immediately Rubrius orders his slaves to shut the door, and to stand at the doors themselves.

But when Philodamus perceived that what was intended and being prepared was, that violence should be offered to his daughter, he calls his servants to him, he bids them disregard him and defend his daughter, and orders some one to run out and bear the news to his son of this overpowering domestic misfortune. Meantime an uproar arises throughout the whole house; a fight takes place between the slaves of Rubrius and his host. That noble and most honourable man is buffeted about in his own house; every one fights for his own safety. At last Philodamus has a quantity of boiling water thrown over him by Rubrius himself. When the news of this is brought to the son, half dead with alarm he instantly hastens home to bring aid to save the life of his father and the modesty of his sister. All the citizens of Lampsacus, with the same spirit, the moment they heard of it, because both the worth of Philodamus and the enormity of the injury excited them, assembled by night at his house. At this time Cornelius, the lictor of Verres, who had been placed with his slaves by Rubrius, as if on guard, for the purpose of carrying off the woman, is slain; some of the slaves are wounded; Rubrius himself is wounded in the crowd. Verres, when he saw such an uproar excited by his own cupidity, began to wish to escape some way or other if he could.

The next morning men come early to the public assembly; they ask what is best to be done; every one delivered his own opinions to the people according as each individual had the most weight. No one was found whose opinion and speech was not to this purpose:—“That it need not be feared, if the Lampsacenes had avenged that man's atrocious wickedness by force and by the sword, that the senate and Roman people would have thought they ought to chastise their city. And if the lieutenants of the Roman people were to establish this law with respect to the allies, and to foreign nations,—that they were not to be allowed to preserve the chastity of their children unpolluted by their lusts, it was better to endure anything rather than to live in a state of such violence and bitterness.”

As all were of this opinion, and as every one spoke in this tenor, as his own feelings and indignation prompted each individual, all immediately proceeded towards the house where Verres was staying. They began to beat the door with stones, to attack it with weapons, to surround it with wood and faggots, and to apply fire to it. Then the Roman citizens who were dwelling as traders at Lampsacus run together to the spot; they entreat the citizens of Lampsacus to allow the name of the lieutenancy to have more weight with them than the insult of the lieutenant; they say that they were well aware that he was an infamous and wicked man, but as he had not accomplished what he had attempted, and as he was not going to be at Lampsacus any longer, their error in sparing a wicked man would be less than that of not sparing a lieutenant.

And so that fellow, far more wicked and infamous than even the notorious Hadrian, This had happened about twelve years before, in the consulship of the younger Marius and Carbo, A.U.C. 672. was a good deal more fortunate. He, because Roman citizens could not tolerate his avarice, was burnt alive at Utica in his own house; and that was thought to have happened to him so deservedly, that all men rejoiced, and no punishment was inflicted for the deed. This man, scorched indeed though he was by the fire made by our allies, yet escaped from those flames and that danger; and has not even yet been able to imagine what he had done, or what had happened to bring him into such great danger. For he cannot say:—“When I was trying to put down a sedition, when I was ordering corn, when I was collecting money for the soldiers, when in short I was doing something or other for the sake of the republic, because I gave some strict order, because I punished some one, because I threatened some one, all this happened.” Even if he were to say so, still he ought not to be pardoned, if he seemed to have been brought into such great danger through issuing too savage commands to our allies.

Now when he neither dares himself to allege any such cause for the tumult as being true, nor even to invent such a falsehood, but when a most temperate man of his own order, who at that time was in attendance on Caius Nero, Publius Tettius, says that he too heard this same account at Lampsacus, (a man most accomplished in everything, Caius Varro, who was at that time in Asia as military tribune, says that be heard this very same story from Philodamus,) can you doubt that fortune was willing, not so much to save him from that danger, as to reserve him for your judgment! Unless, indeed, he will say, as indeed Hortensius did say, interrupting Tettius while he was giving his evidence in the former pleading (at which time indeed he gave plenty of proof that, if there were anything which he could say, he could not keep silence; so that we may all feel sure that, while he was silent in the other matters that were alleged, he was so because he had nothing to say); he at that time said this, that Philodamus and his son had been condemned by Caius Nero.

About which, not to make a long speech, I will merely say that Nero and his bench of judges came to that decision on the ground that it was plain that Cornelius, his lictor, had been slain, and that they thought it was not right that any one, even while avenging his own injuries, should have the power to kill a man. And as to this I see that you were not by Nero's sentence acquitted of atrocity, but that they were convicted of murder. And yet what sort of a conviction was that? Listen, I entreat you, O judges, and do sometimes pity our allies, and show that they ought to have, and that they have, some protection in your integrity. Because the man appeared to all Asia to have been lawfully slain, being in name indeed his lictor, but in reality the minister of his most profligate desires, Verres feared that Philodamus would be acquitted by the sentence of Nero. He begs and entreats Dolabella to leave his own province, to go to Nero; he shows that he himself cannot be safe if Philodamus be allowed to live and at any time to come to Rome.