Who can doubt why you were the first man to change the ancient custom of all your predecessors, to disregard the great advantage of having the money pass through the hands of others, and to undertake a work of such difficulty, so liable to accusation,—a task of such delicacy, inseparable from suspicion? After that, other sources of gain are established arising from this one article of the navy; just listen to their number, O judges;—he receives money from the cities to excuse them from furnishing sailors; the sailors that are furnished he releases for a bribe; he makes a profit of the whole of thee pay of those who are thus released; he does not pay the rest all that he ought to pay. All this you shall have proved to you by the evidence of the cities. Read the evidence of the cities. [The evidence of the cities is read.]

Did you ever hear of such a man? Did you ever hear, O judges, of such impudence? of such audacity? to impose on the cities the payment of a sum of money in proportion to the number of soldiers, and to fix a regular price, six hundred sesterces, for the discharge of each sailor! and as those who paid that sum were released from service for the whole summer, Verres pocketed all that he received both for their pay and for their maintenance. And by this means he made a double profit of the discharge of one person. And this most insane of men, at a time of frequent invasion of pirates, and of imminent danger to the province, did this so openly, that the pirates themselves were aware of it, and the whole province was a witness to it.

When, owing to this man's inordinate avarice, there was a fleet indeed in name in Sicily, but in reality empty ships, fit only to carry plunder for the praetor, not to strike terror into pirates; nevertheless, while Publius Caesetius and Publius Tadius were sailing about with these ten half-manned ships, they, I will not say took, but led away with them one ship, laden with the spoils of the pirates, evidently overwhelmed and sinking with the burden of its freight. That vessel was full of a number of most beautiful quilts, full of quantities of well-wrought plate, and of coined money; full of embroidered robes. This one vessel was not taken by our fleet, but was found at Megaris, a place not far from Syracuse. And when the news was brought to him, although he was lying in his tent on the shore, with a lot of women, drunk, still he roused himself, and immediately sent to the quaestor and to his own lieutenant many men to act as guards, in order that everything might be brought to him to see in an uninjured state, as soon as possible.

The vessel is brought to Syracuse. All expect that the pirates will be punished. He, as if it was not a case of pirates being taken, but of a booty being brought to him, considers all the prisoners who were old or ugly as enemies; those who had any beauty, or youth, or skill in anything, he takes away: some he distributed among his clerks, his retinue, and his son; six skillful musicians he sends to Rome as a present to some friend of his. All that night he spent in unloading the ship. No one sees the captain of the pirate vessel, who ought to have been executed. And to this very day every one believes, (how much truth there is in the belief, you also may be able to conjecture,) that Verres secretly took money of the pirates for the release of the captain of the pirates.

It is only a conjecture; but no one can be a good judge who is not influenced by such certain grounds of suspicion. You know the man, you know the custom of all men,—how gladly any one who has taken a chief of pirates or of the enemy, allows him to be seen openly by all men. But of all the body of citizens and settlers at Syracuse, I never saw one man, O judges, who said that he had seen that captain of the pirates who had been taken; though all men, as is the regular custom, flocked to the prison, asked for him, and were anxious to see him. What happened to make that man be kept so carefully out of sight, that no one was ever able to get a glimpse of him, even by accident? Though all the seafaring men at Syracuse, who had often heard of the name of that captain, who had often been alarmed by him, wished to feed their eyes on, and to gratify their minds with his torture and execution, yet no one was allowed even to see him.

One man, Publius Servilius, took more captains of pirates alive than all our commanders put together had done before. Was any one at any time denied the enjoyment of being allowed to see a captive pirate? On the contrary: wherever Servilius went he afforded every one that most delightful spectacle, of pirates taken prisoners and in chains. Therefore, people everywhere ran to meet him, so that the, assembled not only in the towns through which the pirates were led, but from all neighbouring towns also, for the purpose of seeing them. And why was it that that triumph was of all triumphs the most acceptable and the most delightful to the Roman people? Because nothing is sweeter than victory. But there is no more certain evidence of victory than to set those whom you have often been afraid of, led in chains to execution.

Why did you not act in this manner? Why was that pirate so concealed as if it were impiety to behold him? Why did you not execute him? For what object did you reserve him? Have you ever heard of any captain of pirates having been taken prisoner before, who was not executed? Tell me one original whose conduct you imitated; tell me one precedent. You kept the captain of the pirates alive in order, I suppose, to lead him in your triumph in front of your chariot. For, indeed, there was nothing wanting but for the naval triumph to be decreed to you on the occasion of a most beautiful fleet of the Roman people having been lost, and the province plundered.

Come now—you thought it better that the captain of the pirates should be kept in custody, according to a novel practice, than that he should be put to death according to universal precedent. What then is that custody? Among what people? Where is he kept? You have all heard of the Syracusan stone-quarries. Many of you are acquainted with them. It is a vast work and splendid; the work of the old kings and tyrants. The whole of it is cut out of rock excavated to a marvellous depth, and carved out by the labour of great multitudes of men. Nothing can either be made or imagined so closed against all escape, so hedged in on all sides, so safe for keeping prisoners in. Into these quarries men are commanded to be brought even from other cities in Sicily, if they are commanded by the public authorities to be kept in custody.

Because he had imprisoned there many Roman citizens who were his prisoners, and because he ordered the other pirates to be put there too, he was aware that if he committed this counterfeit captain of the pirates to the same custody, a great many men in those quarries would inquire for the real captain. And therefore he does not venture to commit the man to this best of all and safest of all places of confinement. In fact he is afraid of the whole of Syracuse. He sends the man away. Where to? Perhaps to Lilybaeum. I see; he was not then so entirely afraid of the seafaring men? By no means, O judges. To Panormus then? I understand; although indeed, since he was taken within the Syracusan district, he ought, at all events, to have been kept in prison at Syracuse, if he was not to be executed there.

Not at Panormus even. What then? where do you suppose it was? He sends him away to men the furthest removed from all fear or suspicion of pirates, as unconnected as possible with, all navigation or maritime affairs—to the Centuripans, a thoroughly inland people, complete farmers, who would never have been alarmed at the name of a naval pirate, but who, while you were praetor, had lived in dread of that chief of all land pirates, Apronius. And, that every one might easily see that Verres's object was, that that counterfeit might easily and cheerfully pretend to be what he was not, he enjoins the Centuripans to take case that he is supplied as comfortably and liberally as possible with food and with all things.

In the meantime, the Syracusans, acute and humane men, who were capable not only of seeing what was evident, but also of conjecturing what was hidden, kept an account every day of the pirates who were put to death; how many there ought to be they calculated from the size of the vessel itself which had been taken, and from the number of oars. He, because he had removed and taken away all who had any skill in anything, or any beauty, suspected that there would be an outcry if he had all the pirates fastened to the stake at once, as is the usual custom, because so many more had been taken away than were left: although on this account he had determined to bring them out in different parties, at different times, still in the whole city there was no one who did not keep a strict account and list of them; and they did not only wish to see the rest, but they openly demanded and claimed it.

As there was a great number wanting, that most infamous man began to substitute, in the room of those of the pirates whom he had taken into his own house, the Roman citizens whom he had previously thrown into prison; some of whom he accused of having been soldiers of Sertorius, and said that they had been driven on shore in Sicily, while flying from Spain; others, who had been taken by pirates, while they were engaged in commerce, or else sailing with some other object, he accused of having been with the pirates of their own free will: and therefore some Roman citizens, with their heads muffled up; that they might not be recognised, were taken from prison to the fatal stake and to execution; others, though they were recognised by many Roman citizens, and though all attempted to defend them, were put to death. But of their most shameful death did most cruel tortures I will speak when I begin to discuss this topic; and I will speak with such feelings, that, if in the course of that complaint which I shall make of that man's cruelty, and of the most scandalous execution of Roman citizens, not only my strength, but even my life should fail me, I should think it delightful and honourable.

These then are his exploits, this is his splendid victory; a piratical galley was captured, the captain was released, the musicians were sent to Rome; those with any good looks, any youth, or ally skill, were taken home by him; Roman citizens were tortured and executed in their room, and to make up their number; all the store of robes was taken away, all the silver and gold was taken by him and appropriated to his own use. But how did he defend himself at the former pleading? He who had been silent for so many days, on a sudden sprang up at the evidence of Marcus Annius, a most illustrious man, when he said that a Roman citizen had been executed, and that the captain of the pirates had not. Being roused by the consciousness of his wickedness, and by the frenzy which was inspired by his crimes, he said that, because be knew that he should be accused of having taken money, and of not having executed the real captain of the pirates, he had on that account not executed him, and he said that two captains of pirates were now in confinement in his house.

See the clemency, or rather the marvellous and unexampled patience of the Roman people! Annius, a Roman knight, says that a Roman citizen was put to death by the hand of the executioner. You say nothing. He says that the captain of the pirates was not executed. You admit it. At that a groan and outcry arises from all the assembly; though nevertheless the Roman people checked themselves, and forbore to inflict present punishment on you, and left you in safety for the present, being reserved for the severity of the judges. You, who knew that you should be accused, how did you know it? how came you ever to suspect it? You had no enemy. Even if you had, still you had not lived in such a way as to have any fear of a court of justice before yourselves. Did conscience, as often happens, make you timid and suspicious? Can you, then, who, when you were in command, were even then in fear of tribunals and accusations, now that you are on your trial as a criminal, and that the case is proved against you by so many witnesses, can you, I say, doubt of your condemnation?

But if you were afraid of this accusation,—that some one might say that you had substituted some one else, whom you had caused to be executed for the captain of the pirates, did you think that it would be a stronger argument in your defence, to produce among strangers a long time after, (because I required and compelled you to do so,) a man who you said was the captain of the pirates; or to execute him, while the affair was still of recent date, at Syracuse, among people who knew him well, in the sight of almost all Sicily? See how great a difference it makes which was done. In the one case there could have been no blame attached to you; in the other you have no defence. And accordingly, all men have always done the one thing; but I can find no one before you yourself, who has ever done the other. You detained the pirate alive. Till when? As long as you were in command. Why did you do so? On what account? According to what precedent? Why did you detain him so long? Why, I say, while the Roman citizens who were taken in the pirate's company were immediately put to death, did you give the pirates themselves so long a lease of life?

However, so be it. Let your conduct be responsible all the time that you were praetor. Did you still, when you became a private man, and when you became defendant—yes, and when you were all but condemned,—did you still, I say, detain the captain of our enemies in your private house? One month, a second month, almost a year, in fact, after they were taken, were the pirates in your house; where they would be still, if it had not been for me, that is to say, if it had not been for Marcus Acilius Glabrio, the praetor, who, at my demand, ordered them to be brought up and to be committed to prison. What is the law in such a case? What is the general custom? What are the precedents? Can any private man in the whole world detain within the walls of his own house the most bitter and unceasing enemy of the Roman people or, I should rather say, the common enemy of every race and nation?

What more shall I say? What would you say, if the very day before you were compelled by me to confess that, though you had put Roman citizens to death, the pirate captain was alive and in your house—if, I say, the very day before, he had escaped from your house, and had been able to collect an army against the Roman people? Would you say, “He dwelt with me, he was in my house; in order the more easily to refute the accusations of my enemies, I reserved this man alive and in safety for my trial?” Is it so? Will you defend yourself from danger, at the risk of the whole community? Will you regulate the time of the punishments which are due to conquered enemies, by what is convenient for yourself, not by what is expedient for the Roman people? Shall an enemy of the Roman people be kept in private custody? But even those who have triumphs, and who on that account keep the generals of the enemy alive a longer time, in order that, while they are led in triumph, the Roman people may enjoy an ennobling spectacle, and a splendid fruit of victory; nevertheless, when they begin to turn their chariot from the forum towards the Capitol, order them to be taken back to prison, and the same day brings to the conquerors the end of their authority, and to the conquered the end of their lives.

And now, can I suppose that any one doubts that you would never have allowed (especially as you made sure, as you say, that a prosecution would be instituted against you) that pirate to escape execution, and to live to increase your danger which was ever before your eyes? For indeed, suppose he had died, whom could you (who say that you were afraid of a prosecution) have convinced of it? When it was notorious that the captain of the pirates had been seen by no one at Syracuse, and that all desired to see him; when no one had any doubt that he had been released by you for a sum of money; when it was a common topic of conversation that some one had been substituted in his place, who you wished to make believe was the man; when you yourself had confessed that you had, for so long a time before, been afraid of that accusation; if you had said that he had died, who would have believed you?

Now, when you produce this man of yours, whoever he may be, still you see that you are laughed at. What would you have done if he had escaped? if he had broken his bonds, as Nico, that most celebrated pirate did, who was afterwards retaken by Publius Servilius, with the same good fortune as he had originally taken him with; what would you have said then? But the case was this.—If once that real captain of the pirates was put to death, you would not get that money. If this counterfeit one had died or had escaped, it would not have been difficult to substitute another in the room of one who was himself only a substitute. I have said more than I intended of that pirate captain; and yet I have passed over those things which are the most certain proofs of this crime. For I wish the whole of this accusation to remain untouched for the present. There is a certain place for its discussion, a certain law to be mentioned in connection with it, a certain tribunal for whose judgment it is reserved.

Though enriched with all this booty, with these slaves, with this silver plate, and these robes, he was still no more diligent than before in equipping the fleet, in recalling and provisioning the troops; though that would not only have tended to the safety of the province, but might have been even profitable to himself. For in the height of summer, when all other praetors have been accustomed to visit all the province, and to travel about, or to sail about,—at a time when there was such fear of and such danger from the pirates; at that time he was not content, for the purpose of his luxury and lust, with his own kingly palace which had belonged to king Hiero, and which the praetors are in the habit of using. He ordered, as I have stated already, tents, such as he was wont to use at the summer season, erected of fine linen curtains, to be pitched on the seashore; on that part of the shore which is within the island of Syracuse, behind the fountain of Arethusa; close to the entrance and mouth of the harbour, in a very pleasant situation, and one far enough removed from overlookers.