In view of this, when Cato became censor1
and was purging the senate of its unworthy members, he expelled from it Lucius Flamininus, although he was a man of consular dignity, and although his brother Titus was thought to be involved in his disgrace. Therefore the two brothers came before the people in lowly garb and bathed in tears, and made what seemed a reasonable request of their fellow citizens, namely, that Cato should state the reasons which had led him to visit a noble house with a disgrace so great.
Without any hesitation, then, Cato came forward, and standing with his colleague before Titus, asked him if he knew about the banquet. Titus said he did not, whereupon Cato related the incident and formally challenged Lucius to say whether any part of the story told was not true. But Lucius was dumb, and the people therefore saw that he had been justly disgraced, and gave Cato a splendid escort away from the rostra.
Titus, however, was so affected by the misfortune of his brother that he leagued himself with those who had long hated Cato, and after getting the upper hand in the senate, revoked and annulled all the public rentals and leases and contracts which Cato had made, besides bringing many heavy indictments against him.2
That he acted the part of a good man or a good citizen I cannot affirm, in thus cherishing an incurable hatred against a lawful magistrate and a most excellent citizen on account of a man who, though a kinsman, was nevertheless unworthy and had suffered only what he deserved.
However, as the Roman people was once enjoying a spectacle in the theatre, and the senate, according to custom, had seats of honour in the foremost rows, Lucius was seen sitting somewhere in the rear among the poor and lowly, and excited men's pity. The multitude could not bear the sight, but kept shouting to him to change his place, until he did change his place, and was received among their own number by the men of consular rank.