sought to be restored to their
country. Well, this concerned the common interests of the whole party.
Besides that, they sought to recover their household gods, the gods of
their country, their altars, their hearths, the tutelar gods of their
family; all of which you had seized upon. And when they sought to
recover those things by force of arms which belonged to them by the
laws, who was it most natural--(although in unjust and unnatural
proceedings what can there be that is natural?)--still, who was it
most natural to expect would fight against the children of Cnaeus
Pompeius? Who? Why, you who had bought their property. Were you at
Narbo to be sick over the tables of your entertainers, while Dolabella
was fighting your battles in Spain?

And what a return was that of yours from Narbo? He even asked why
I had returned so suddenly from my expedition. I have just briefly
explained to you, O conscript fathers, the reason of my return. I was
desirous, if I could, to be of service to the republic even before the
first of January. For, as to your question, how I had returned; in the
first place, I returned by daylight, not in the dark; in the second
place, I returned in shoes, and in my Roman gown, not in any Gallic
slippers, or barbarian mantle. And even now you keep looking at me;
and, as it seems, with great anger. Surely you would be reconciled
to me if you knew how ashamed I am of your worthlessness, which you
yourself are not ashamed of. Of all the profligate conduct of all the
world, I never saw, I never heard of any more shameful than yours. You
who fancied yourself a master of the horse, when you were standing
for, or I should rather say begging for the consulship for the
ensuing year, ran in Gallic slippers and a barbarian mantle about the
municipal towns and colonies of Gaul from which we used to demand the
consulship when the consulship was stood for and not begged for.

XXXI. But mark now the trifling character of the fellow. When about
the tenth hour of the day he had arrived at Red Rocks, he skulked into
a little petty wine-shop, and, hiding there, kept on drinking till
evening. And from thence getting into a gig and being driven rapidly
to the city, he came to his own house with his head veiled. "Who are
you?" says the porter. "An express from Marcus." He is at once taken
to the woman for whose sake he had come; and he delivered the letter
to her. And when she had read it with tears, (for it was written in