[89]
Why
need I tell how often you, distrusting and despairing of your fortunes, lay
down in mourning, and lamentation, and misery? Why need I tell how you sent
to that priest, so beloved the people, six hundred men of the friends, or
allies, or tributaries of the Roman people, to be exposed to wild beasts?
Need I relate how, when you were scarcely able to supply your disappointment
and grief at your departure from the province, you first of all went to
Samothrace, after that
Thasos with your train of young
dancing boys, and with Autobulus, and Athamas, and Timocles, those beautiful
brothers?—that when you departed thence you lay for many days
weeping in the villa of Euchadia, who was the wife Execestus? and from
thence, disguised in shabby garments you came to Thessalonica by night, without any one
knowing it?—that then, when you could not bear the crowds of in
who came about you bewailing the state to which you had
reduced them, nor the torrent of their complaints, you fled away to
Beroea, a town out of your
road? Need I relate how, when a rumour that Quintus Ancharius was not going
to be appointed your successor had elated your mind with false hopes, while
you were in that town, you again, O wretched man, gave the rein to all your
former intemperance?
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