ot have been restored. Cicero
gives a lively picture of a scene in the Senate, in which this hatred
was vigorously expressed. "Pompey spoke, or rather wished to speak; for,
as soon as he rose, Clodius' hired ruffians shouted at him. All through
his speech it was the same; he was interrupted not only by shouts but by
abuse and curses. When he came to an end--and it must be allowed that he
showed courage; nothing frightened him: he said his say and sometimes
even obtained silence--then Clodius rose. He was met with such an uproar
from our side (for we had determined to give him back as good as he had
given) that he could not collect his thoughts, control his speech, or
command his countenance. This went on from three o'clock, when Pompey
had only just finished his speech, till five. Meanwhile every kind of
abuse, even to ribald verses, were shouted out against Clodius and his
sister. Pale with fury he turned to his followers, and in the midst of
the uproar asked them, 'Who is it that is killing the people with
hunger?' 'Pompey,' they answered. 'Who wants to go to Alexandria?'
'Pompey,' they answered again. 'And whom do _you_ want to go?'
'Crassus,' they said. About six o'clock the party of Clodius began, at
some given signal, it seemed, to spit at our side. Our rage now burst
out. They tried to drive us from our place, and we made a charge. The
partisans of Clodius fled. He was thrust down from the hustings. I then
made my escape, lest any thing worse should happen."

A third enemy, and one whom Clodius was destined to find more dangerous
than either Cicero or Pompey, was Annius Milo. Milo was on the mother's
side of an old Latin family. The name by which he was commonly known was
probably a nickname given him, it may be, in joking allusion to the Milo
of Crotona, the famous wrestler, who carried an ox on his shoulders and
ate it in a single day. For Milo was a great fighting man, a well-born
gladiator, one who was for cutting all political knots with the sword.
He was ambitious, and aspired to the consulship; but the dignity was
scarcely within his reach. His family was not of the highest; he was
deeply in debt; he had neither eloquence nor ability. His best chance,
therefore, was to attach himself to some powerful friend whose gratitude
he might earn. Just such a friend he seemed to find in Cicero. He saw
the great orator's fortunes were very low, but they would probably rise
again, and he would be grateful to those who