All that fine
panegyric was yours, that commiseration was yours, that exhortation was yours.
It was you—you, I say—who hurled those firebrands, both
those with which your friend himself was nearly burned, and those by which the
house of Lucius Bellienus was set on fire and destroyed. It was you who let
loose those attacks of abandoned men, slaves for the most part, which we
repelled by violence and our own personal exertions; it was you who set them on
to attack our houses. And yet you, as if you had wiped off all the soot and
smoke in the ensuing days, carried those excellent resolutions in the Capitol,
that no document conferring any exemption, or granting any favor, should he
published after the ides of March. You recollect yourself, what you said about
the exiles; you know what you said about the exemption; but the best thing of
all was, that you forever abolished the name of the dictatorship in the
republic. Which act appeared to show that you had conceived such a hatred of
kingly power that you took away all fear of it for the future, on account of him
who had been the last dictator.