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23. [59]

For what injury had my unhappy wife done to you? whom you harassed and plundered and ill-treated with every description of cruelty. What harm had my daughter done to you? whose incessant weeping and mourning and misery were so agreeable to you, though they moved the eyes and feelings of every one else. What had my little son done? whom no one ever saw all the time that I was away, that he was not weeping and lamenting; what, I say, had he done that you should so often try to murder him by stratagem? What had my brother done? who, when, some time after my departure, he arrived from his province and thought that it was not worth his while to live unless I were restored to him, when his chief and excessive and unprecedented mourning seemed to render him an object of pity to every one, was constantly attacked by you with arms and violence, he escaped with difficulty out of your hands. [60] But why need I dilate upon your cruelty which you have displayed towards me and mine? when you have waged a horrible and nefarious war, dyed with every description of hatred against my walls, my roofs, my pillars and door-posts. For I do not think that you, when, after my departure, you in the covetousness of your hopes had devoured the fortunes of all the rich men, the produce of all the provinces, the property of tetrarchs and of kings, were blinded by the desire of my plate and furniture. I do not think that that Campanian consul with his dancing colleague, after you had sacrificed to the one all Achaia, Thessaly, Boeotia, Greece, Macedonia and all the countries of the barbarians, and the property of the Roman citizens in those countries, and when you had delivered up to the other Sulla, Babylon, and the Persians those hitherto uninjured and peaceful nations, to plunder, I do not think, I say, that they were covetous of my thresholds and pillars and folding doors. [61] Nor, indeed, did the bands and forces of Catiline think that they could appease their hunger with the tiles and mortar of my roofs. But as, without being influenced by the idea of booty, still out of hatred we are accustomed to destroy the cities of enemies;—not of all enemies indeed, but of those with whom we have waged any bitter and intestine war; because when our minds have been inflamed against any people by reason of their cruelty, there always appears to be some war still lingering in their abodes and habitations,
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