th Hippia[17] by virtue of his
office, and that he might give horses which were the property of the
state to Sergius the buffoon. At that time he had selected for himself
to live in, not the house which he now dishonours, but that of Marcus
Piso. Why need I mention his decrees, his robberies, the possessions
of inheritances which were given him, and those too which were seized
by him? Want compelled him; he did not know where to turn. That great
inheritance from Lucius Rubrius, and that other from Lucius Turselius,
had not yet come to him. He had not yet succeeded as an unexpected
heir to the place of Cnaeus Pompeius, and of many others who were
absent. He was forced to live like a robber, having nothing beyond
what he could plunder from others.

However, we will say nothing of these things, which are acts of a more
hardy sort of villany. Let us speak rather of his meaner descriptions
of worthlessness. You, with those jaws of yours, and those sides of
yours, and that strength of body suited to a gladiator, drank such
quantities of wine at the marriage of Hippia, that you were forced
to vomit the next day in the sight of the Roman people. O action
disgraceful not merely to see, but even to hear of! If this had
happened to you at supper amid those vast drinking cups of yours, who
would not have thought it scandalous? But in an assembly of the Roman
people, a man holding a public office, a master of the horse, to whom
it would have been disgraceful even to belch, vomiting filled his own
bosom and the whole tribunal with fragments of what he had been eating
reeking with wine. But he himself confesses this among his other
disgraceful acts. Let us proceed to his more splendid offences.

XXVI. Caesar came back from Alexandria, fortunate, as he seemed at
least to himself; but in my opinion no one can be fortunate who is
unfortunate for the republic. The spear was set up in front of
the temple of Jupiter Stator, and the property of Cnaeus Pompeius
Magnus--(miserable that I am, for even now that my tears have ceased
to flow, my grief remains deeply implanted in my heart,)--the
property, I say, of Cnaeus Pompeius the Great was submitted to the
pitiless, voice of the auctioneer. On that one occasion the state
forgot its slavery, and groaned aloud, and though men's minds were
enslaved, as everything was kept under by fear, still the groans of
the Roman people were free. While all men were waiting to see who
would be so impious, wh