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.