M. Tullius Cicero, For Rabirius Postumus
C. D. Yonge, Ed.

These arguments ought to be quite sufficient for men who are of a just disposition; and mere than sufficient for you, who we feel sure are men of the greatest justice.

But, in order fully to satisfy everybody's suspicions, or malevolence, or even cruelty, we will take this statement too. “Postumus is hiding his money; the king's riches are concealed.” Is there any one of all this people who would like to have all the property of Caius Rabirius Postumus knocked down to him for one single sesterce?¹ But miserable man that I am! with what great pain do I say this,—Come, Postumus, are you the son of Caius Curius, the son, as far as his judgment and inclination go, of Caius Rabirius, not in reality and by nature the son of his sister? Are you the man who is so liberal to all his relations; whose kindness has enriched many men; who has never wasted anything; who has never spent any money on any profligacy? and all your property, O Postumus, knocked down by me for one single sesterce? Oh how miserable and bitter is my office as an auctioneer! [46] But he, miserable man, even wishes to be convicted by you; and to have his property sold, so that every one may be repaid his principal. He has no concern about anything except his own good faith. Nor will you, if you should, in his case, think fit to forget your habitual humanity, be able to take from him anything beyond his property. [47] But, O judges, I beg and entreat you not to forget that usual course of yours, and so much the more as in this instance money which he has nothing to do with is being claimed of a man who is not even repaid his own. Odium is sought to be stirred up against a man, who ought to find an ally in the general pity.

But now, since, as I hope, I have discharged as well as I have been able to, the obligations of good faith to you, O Postumus, I will give you also the aid of my tears, as I well may; for I saw abundant tears shed by you at the time of my own misfortune. That miserable night is constantly present to the eyes of all my friends, on which you came to me with your forces, and devoted yourself wholly to me. You supported me at that time of my departure with your companions, with your protection, and even as much gold as that time would admit of. During the time of my absence you were never deficient in comforting and aiding my children, or my wife. I can produce many men who have been recalled from banishment as witnesses of your liberality; conduct which I have often heard was of the greatest assistance to your father, whose behaviour was like your own, when he was tried for his life. [48] But at present I am afraid of everything: I dread even the unpopularity which your very kindness of disposition may provoke. Already the weeping of so many men as we behold indicates how beloved you are by your own relations; but, as for me, grief enfeebles and stifles my voice. I do entreat you, O judges, do not deprive this most excellent man, than whom no more virtuous man has ever lived, of the name of a Roman knight, of the enjoyment of this light, and of the pleasure of beholding you. He begs nothing else of you, except to be allowed with uplifted eyes to behold this city, and to pace around the forum; a pleasure which fortune would have already deprived him of; if the power of one single friend had not come to his assistance.