Plutarch, Cicero
Bernadotte Perrin, Ed.

31. However, in the first place, nearly the whole body of knights changed their attire with Cicero, and as many as twenty thousand young men escorted him with their hair untrimmed and joined in his suppliant entreaties to the people;¹ and besides, when the senate had met in order to pass a vote that the people should change their dress in token of public calamity, and the consuls had opposed it, and Clodius was in arms about the senate-house, not a few of the senators ran out, rending their garments and crying aloud. [2] But since this sight awakened neither pity nor any mercy, but Cicero was obliged either to go into exile or to appeal to force and the sword against Clodius, he begged for aid from Pompey, who had purposely got out of the way and was staying at his country seat in the Alban hills. First Cicero sent Piso,² his son-in-law, to entreat for him; then he went up thither himself also. [3] Pompey, however, on learning of his coming, could not endure to see him, for he felt a strong sense of shame towards the man who had made great struggles in his behalf and had often adopted a political course to please him; but since he was Caesar's son-in-law, at his request he proved false to his old obligations, slipped out by another door, and so ran away from the interview. Thus betrayed by him and left desolate, Cicero fled for refuge to the consuls. [4] Gabinius was always severe with him, but Piso dealt with him more gently, advising him to stand aside and yield to the impetuous assaults of Clodius, to submit to the change in the times, and to become once more a saviour of his country when she was involved in seditions and misfortunes through Clodius.

After getting such answer to his appeal, Cicero took counsel with his friends: Lucullus urged him to remain in the city, believing that he would prevail; but others advised him to go into exile, believing that the people would quickly long for him when they were sated with the folly and madness of Clodius. [5] This Cicero decided to do; so he took the statue of Minerva which had long stood in his house, and which he honoured exceedingly, carried it to the capitol,³ and dedicated it there with the inscription ‘To Minerva, Guardian of Rome’; then, accepting an escort from his friends, about midnight he slipped out of the city, and set out on foot through Lucania, desiring to reach Sicily.