Quintilian: DECLAMATIONES MAIORES

One night a poor man was returning with his son. The adolescent was slain. The poor man offers himself to torture, saying that the youth was slain by the rich man.

dives contradicit ex lege.

the rich man contradicts according to the law.

[1] Sentio, iudices, plurimum detrahi calamitatibus meis miserationis, quod ad vos detulisse videor nimium fortem dolorem, et tristissimae orbitatis mihi quoque accessisse novitatem, quod, cum adversus me tam gravia et crudelia deposcam, patior invidiam hominis exigentis aliena tormenta. non possum tamen, velim, vobis approbare, quid patiar, quod mihi non est relicta miseri patris infirmitas. percussorem filii mei vidi, et miserior sum, quam si nescirem, quis occidisset.

[1] I perceive, judges, that very much of pity is being detracted from my calamities, because I seem to you to have brought before you a grief too strong, and of my most sorrowful bereavement there has also come a novelty to me as well, in that, when I file a complaint about things so grave and cruel done against me, I suffer the odium of a man exacting others’ torments. I cannot, however, I would, prove to you what I suffer, because there has not been left to me the infirmity of a wretched father. I saw the assassin of my son, and I am more miserable than if I did not know who had killed him.

fateor igitur, iudices, ipse miror, unde ad hoc probationis genus repente confugerim. veneram tamquam nuntiaturus indubia, manifesta, nec alium expectaveram publicarum suspicionum de filii mei morte consensum, quam si percussorem videretis omnes. hic, hic, ut torquerer, inveni; postquam satis non videbantur explicare verba quod videram, confugi ad fidem doloris.

I confess, therefore, judges, I myself marvel whence I have suddenly taken refuge in this genus of proof. I had come as though to announce things indubitable, manifest, nor had I expected any other consensus of public suspicions about the death of my son than if you all should see the assassin. Here, here, so that I might be tortured, I found him; after words did not seem sufficient to unfold what I had seen, I fled for refuge to the credence of grief.

Quid faciam, si temeritates quoque nostras conscientia reorum non potest pati? intellexi miser timore factum, qui<a> ut torquerer exegeram, ex quo me dives non putat aliud in quaestione dicturum; neque ego, iudices, quemquam vestrum dubitare crediderim, ex qua conscientia, qua trepidatione descendat, ut quis torqueri nolit inimicum. quos nunc putatis cruciatus divitem pati, quem dolorem, quod hoc mihi negat?

What am I to do, if even our temerities the conscience of the accused cannot endure? I, wretched, understood it was done from fear, because I had demanded that I be put to the rack, from which point the rich man does not think that I will say anything else in the inquisition; nor would I, judges, have believed any of you could doubt, from what conscience, with what trepidation he comes down, that one should not wish his enemy to be tortured. What torments do you now suppose the rich man is suffering, what pain, because he denies me this?

Quam vellet ideo tantum filium meum non occidisse, ut mihi posset indulgere tormenta! an hoc creditis, iudices, divitem facere legum libertatisque respectu, et reum pro exemplo esse sollicitum? ille vero nunc laceratur, etsi magis nostro dolore fruitur:

How he would have wished for this reason only not to have killed my son, that he might be able to indulge me the torments! Or do you believe this, judges, that the rich man acts out of regard for the laws and for liberty, and that the accused is anxious for the sake of example? He indeed is now lacerated, although he more enjoys our grief:

[2] operae pretium est inimico negare tormenta, cum feceris, ut velit ipse torqueri.

[2] it is worth the trouble to deny torments to an enemy, when you have brought it about that he himself wishes to be tormented.

Illud igitur a vobis, iudices, infelicissimus omnium mortalium peto, ne, cum inaudita, incredibilia passus sim, misereri velitis corporis mei; crudelius et indignius est quam torqueri non impetrare tormenta. est adversorum meorum et ista novitas, quod necesse habetis ea mihi ratione succurrere, qua odissetis alium, nec quicquam est homine infelicius, pro quo tormenta sunt. percussorem a me filii mei visum esse contendo; facinus est hoc vos non deprehendere, si mendacium est, facinus est hoc me non probare, si verum est.

Therefore from you, judges, I, the most unlucky of all mortals, ask this: that, although I have suffered unheard-of, incredible things, you not be willing to pity my body; more cruel and more unworthy than to be tortured is not to obtain tortures. There is also this novelty of my adversaries, that you are compelled to succor me by the very rationale by which you would have hated another, and nothing is more unfortunate than the man for whom there are tortures. I contend that the slayer of my son was seen by me; it is a crime that you not detect this, if it is a lie, it is a crime that I not prove it, if it is true.

quod ad me quidem, iudices, pertinet, orbitatis meae repeto praesentiam, et noctem illam rursus ante oculos meos cogitationes reponunt: iam mihi videor et in tormentis esse confessus. filium, iudices, habui, sicut erecti ac sublimis animi, ita qui nondum suos haberet inimicos, et quem nemo adhuc nisi causa tantum mei doloris occideret. o parentum misera condicio, quam novis inusitatisque patemus insidiis!

As far as concerns me, judges, I recall into presence my bereavement, and my thoughts set that night again before my eyes: already I seem to myself to have even confessed under torments. I had a son, judges, of an erect and sublime spirit, and one who did not yet have enemies of his own, and whom no one thus far would have killed except solely as a cause of my grief. O the wretched condition of parents, to what new and unusual insidious snares we lie open!

nos exasperamus, nos offendimus, inimici tamen liberos nostros oderunt. quis hoc umquam, iudices, simultatium timuisset ingenium, ut eodem aliquis excogitaret animo et quod parcit et quod occidit?

we exasperate, we offend, yet our enemies hate our children. who ever, judges, would have feared this temper of rivalries, that someone would, with the same mind, devise both what spares and what kills?

Reliqua, iudices, non debebam nisi in quaestione narrare. felices illos in mei conparatione patres, qui perisse liberos suos nuntiis credunt! ego sum inaudita malorum novitate percussus, cuius unicus ideo tantum occisus est, ut viderem.

The remainder, judges, I ought not to narrate except under examination. Happy those fathers, in comparison with me, who believe, on the reports of messengers, that their children have perished! I am stricken by an unheard-of novelty of evils, I whose only son was slain for this reason only, that I might see it.

[3] Revertebamur nocte pariter, sicut omnia nos vitae ministeria iungebant, et homines, quibus non servos praestabat fortuna custodes, tuebamur pauperem mutua pietate comitatum invicem sustinentes, invicem innixi nec nisi magna percussoris diligentia separandi, cum dives medio noctis horrore stricto mucrone prosiluit et stupentibus attonitisque miseris confodit illum fortiorem, illum, qui fortassis aliquid in mea morte fecisset. confiteor, iudices, nihil tunc oculorum meorum diligentia, nihil egit cura miseri patris: percussor voluit agnosci.

[3] We were returning at night together, just as all the ministries of life were uniting us, and we—men to whom fortune did not provide slaves as guards—were protecting the poor man, accompanied by mutual piety, supporting one another in turn, leaning upon each other in turn, and not to be separated save by great diligence of the assassin, when the rich man, with blade drawn, sprang forth in the horror of the middle of the night and, while we poor wretches were stunned and thunderstruck, stabbed to death that stronger one—the one who perhaps would have done something in regard to my death. I confess, judges, then the diligence of my eyes did nothing, the care of a wretched father did nothing: the assassin wished to be recognized.

Vos nunc, cives, vos, omnes humani generis adfectus, miserrimus interrogo pater: suadete, quid faciam. hunc, quem videtis circa me sanguinem, de filii vulneribus excepi; his manibus labentis unici membra sustinui. in oculis adhuc vultus ille morientis, haerent auribus verba super cadaver habita exultantis inimici.

Now you, citizens, you, all the affections of the human race, I, a most wretched father, ask: advise me what I should do. This blood, which you see around me, I received from my son’s wounds; with these hands I supported the limbs of my only one as he was slipping away. In my eyes that face of the dying man is still, in my ears the words spoken over the cadaver by the exulting enemy cling.

fidem tormentorum! quousque percussoris filii mei conscius ero? aperite pectus istud et totum de visceribus meis latronis egerite secretum.

Trust the torments! How long shall I be privy to the assassin of my son? Open this breast and drive out entirely from my very viscera the robber’s secret.

vidi, et mihi non creditur! vidi, ita possim et in tormentis idem dicere. aut si conpono, si fingo, urar, lacerer, et non probem.

i saw, and i am not believed! i saw—so may i be able to say the same even in torments. or if i contrive, if i feign, let me be burned, let me be lacerated, and let me not prove it.

si videtur, torquendus sum, iudices, ut hoc desinam dicere, nec me, iudices, fallit, quantam molem accusationis etiam in manifesta veritate susceperim: divitem detuli reum pauper, inimicus, occisi pater, et postulo, ut mihi credatur testimonium in mea orbitate dicenti. itaque non deprecor, quominus mihi velitis irasci, donec probem; torquete tamquam mentientem.

If it seems good, I must be tormented, judges, so that I may cease to say this; nor does it escape me, judges, how great a mass of accusation I have undertaken even in manifest truth: as a poor man I have denounced a rich man as defendant, an enemy, the father of the slain, and I demand that faith be given to me speaking testimony in my bereavement. Therefore I do not deprecate your being willing to be angry with me, until I prove it; torture me as though I were lying.

[4] 'Lex,' inquit, 'liberum hominem torqueri vetat.' per fidem, iudices, quis non hoc eum respondere credat, cuius tormenta poscantur! nemini, iudices, credo dubium legem, quae torqueri liberum hominem vetat, hoc prospexisse tantum, ne quis torqueretur invitus, et iura, quae nos a servilium corporum condicione secernunt, inpatientiae tantum succurrisse nolentium. omnium beneficiorum ista natura est, ut non sit necessitas, sed potestas; quicquid in honorem alicuius inventum est, desinet privilegium vocari posse, si cogas.

[4] 'The law,' he says, 'forbids a free man to be tortured.' By faith, judges, who would not believe him to answer this, the man whose tortures are being demanded! To no one, judges, do I think it is doubtful that the law, which forbids a free man to be tortured, made provision for this only: that no one be tortured unwilling; and that the rights which separate us from the condition of servile bodies came to the aid only of the impatience of those unwilling. Such is the nature of all benefactions, that there is not necessity but power; whatever has been devised in honor of someone will cease to be able to be called a privilege, if you compel.

cuncta, si videtur, iura percurrite: nusquam adeo pro nobis sollicita lex est, ut, quod praestat, extorqueat. dedit caeco talionis actionem: num manus recusantis inpellit? iniuriarum, caedis agere permisit, sed non cogit invitos.

run through all the laws, if it seems good: nowhere is the law so solicitous for us that it extorts what it provides. it has given to the blind man an action of talion: does it impel the hand of one refusing? it has permitted suits of injuries and of killing, but it does not compel the unwilling.

adeo paene levius est ultionem perire quam potestatem. genus servitutis est coacta libertas, et eadem iniquitas, quicquid de invito homine facias. vis scire, quid lex ista prospexerit?

to such a degree, it is almost the lighter thing for vengeance to perish than for the power: coerced liberty is a kind of servitude, and the same iniquity attends whatever you do with an unwilling man. Do you wish to know what that law foresaw?

non exigo, ut torquearis.

I do not exact that you be tortured.

Quam multa, dii deaeque, non minus sunt iusta quam lex! exigit quarundam invidia rerum, ut vinci se consuetudo patiatur, et quicquid accidisse mireris, tantundem poscit in ultione novitatis. filius in conspectu patris occisus est; torquete securi: nihil iniquius fieri potest.

How many things, gods and goddesses, are no less just than the law! The envy of certain matters demands that custom allow itself to be overcome, and whatever you marvel has happened demands as much novelty in vengeance. A son has been slain in the sight of his father; torture with the axe: nothing more iniquitous can be done.

ignoscant persuasiones, si facinus istud omnium inlicitarum rerum consumpsit invidiam, et, unde tormentis salva iustitia est, plus est de quo quaeritur, quam quo modo quaerendum est. nullum debet iniquum videri genus probationis esse, quod solum est, et quicquid potuit prodesse [se]veritati, numquam nocuit exemplo. sufficit libertatis reverentiae quod torquetis inviti, quod contra me non alius invenit.

Let persuasions be pardoned, if that crime has consumed the odium of all illicit things, and, in a matter where by tortures justice is kept safe, there is more about which inquiry is made than about the manner in which it must be inquired. No kind of proof ought to seem unjust, if it is the only one, and whatever could profit truth has never harmed by example. It suffices for reverence for liberty that you apply torture unwillingly, that no one else has contrived this against me.

[5] Liberum torqueri non licet. hoc est, iudices, propter quod filium meum dives coram me non timuit occidere. filium igitur meum in conspectu meo occisum esse contendo.

[5] It is not licit to torture a free man. This is, judges, on account of which the rich man did not fear to kill my son before me. Therefore I contend that my son was slain in my sight.

quid dicitis? ita non erat contra proclamationis huius fidem, si nunc agere possem quietum modestumque miserum? vultis, cum hoc viderim, tantum testimonium dicam?

What do you say? Would it not be, then, against the credibility of this proclamation, if I could now conduct myself as a quiet and modest wretch? Do you wish that, although I have seen this, I should only give testimony?

mirum hercules, si scindo vestes, nudo corpus, ignes, flagella deposco! insaniat necesse est pater, cum solus hoc sciat. fallitur, iudices, quisquis hoc, quod postulo, contemptum, quisquis audaciam vocat: filius urit, exagitat, et inter tormenta fugio dolorem.

By Hercules, it is a wonder if I tear my garments, bare my body, demand fires and scourges! The father must be insane, since he alone knows this. He is mistaken, judges, whoever calls this which I demand contempt, whoever calls it audacity: the son burns me, agitates me, and amid torments I flee from pain.

si mentientis est velle torqueri, invenite, quid facere debeat, qui verum dicit et non probat.

If it is the mark of a liar to want to be tortured, discover what he ought to do who speaks the truth and does not prove it.

'Mentiris,' inquit. bene quod et tu fateris non esse mihi sine quaestione credendum. et quas, per fidem, mendacio meo causas, dives, adsignas?

'You lie,' he says. Good, that you too confess that I am not to be believed without inquiry. And what, by your honor, causes do you, rich man, assign to my lie?

ignoro percussorem, deinde te potissimum, de quo quererer, elegi, an scio, et simultatibus nostris occasionem orbitatis indulgeo? decipi me non potuisse manifestum est: filius meus, cum pariter rediremus, occisus est. an dinoscere percussorem nocte non potui, cum percussor potuerit eligere, fugere?

Do I not know the assassin, and then have I chosen you above all, about whom I would complain, or do I know, and do I indulge our enmities with the occasion of my bereavement? It is manifest that I could not have been deceived: my son, when we were returning together, was slain. Or could I not discern the assassin by night, when the assassin could choose, could flee?

quid ais? Iuvenem meum alius occidit, et tu mihi solacium ultionis imples? te accuso scilicet, ut interim nescio quis ille fugiat, evadat?

What do you say? Another has killed my young man, and you provide me the solace of vengeance? I accuse you, of course, so that meanwhile some I-know-not-who may flee, escape?

quod tu mihi genus furoris adsignas, ut maximi sceleris ultio pereat falsae accusationis incerto! homo, qui me vidisse contendo, cum occideres filium meum, nisi de te vindicor, non reliqui mihi, ut hoc de aliis probarem.

what genus of fury do you assign to me, that the vengeance of the greatest crime should perish in the uncertainty of a false accusation! Man, I, who contend that I saw you when you were killing my son, unless I am avenged upon you, have not left to myself the means to prove this about others.

[6] o te extra omnes humanorum pectorum adfectus, inimice, sepositum, nunc qui me putas posse mentiri! perdidi infelix illum cariorem pauperibus adfectum. succurrere mihi putas, quod aliquando dissedimus?

[6] O you, set apart outside all the affections of human hearts, enemy, you who now think me able to lie! Unhappy, I have lost that affection more dear to the poor. Do you think you are succoring me, because at some time we dissented?

falleris, deciperis: hominis, cuius occisus est filius, unus inimicus est. sane possit aliquis hanc doloris [dis]simulationem mendacio perferre verborum; torqueri volo; nihil est tanti, nisi verum. videlicet inter ignes ac flagella sufficit mihi, si dixero: 'hic est inimicus, anime, qui nobis subinde maledixit, hic ille contumeliosus, ille inpotens.' ego nescio, an mihi possit in quaestione sufficere quod vidi.

you are deceived, you are deluded: the man whose son has been killed has one enemy. indeed someone could carry through this [dis]simulation of grief by a mendacity of words; I wish to be tortured; nothing is worth so much, except the truth. evidently, amid fires and scourges it will suffice for me, if I shall have said: “this is the enemy, my soul, who again and again maligned us; this is that insulting one, that incontinent one.” I do not know whether, in the inquiry, what I saw can suffice for me.

~et quod inimicus me contendit ideo velle torqueri~.

~and that my enemy contends that I therefore wish to be tortured~.

Tormenta postulo. en ad quod confugiat homo, qui se sciat posse mentiri! nulla est ratio quaestionum relicta mortalibus, si adiuvant contra veritatem, et sublata est de rebus humanis necessitatis huius utilitas, si causam ultro tuetur explicatque fingentibus.

I demand torture. Lo, to what a thing a man takes refuge, who knows himself able to lie! No rationale of interrogations is left to mortals, if they aid against the truth, and the utility of this necessity is removed from human affairs, if it of its own accord defends and explicates the case for those who feign.

hucusque durant artis ingenia mortalium, et, licet sit aliquis secreti firmitate conpositus, hominem tamen ultra non sequitur animus. non vacat adserere quae finxeris, tunc, cum vix prodest et verum fateri, et nemo non contra id torquetur, quod dixit ante tormenta. non refert, cuius ad eculeum nominis persuasionem, quas silentii adferas causas; in quaestionibus tantum corpora sumus, et nemo non contra aliquem torquetur adfectum.

Thus far do the artifices of mortals’ art endure, and, although someone be composed by the firmness of secrecy, yet the spirit does not follow the man any further. There is no leisure to assert what you have fashioned, then, when it scarcely even profits to confess the truth; and everyone is racked to the contrary of what he said before the torments. It makes no difference, to the rack, under what persuasion of a name, or what causes for silence you bring; in examinations we are only bodies, and everyone is tortured against some affection.

exigam quaestionem, an recusem, quid interest tormentorum, brevi futurus similis homini, qui fateatur invitus? novum, iudices, inauditumque rebus humanis aperitur exemplum:

Shall I press for the interrogation, or refuse it—what difference do the torments make, I who shall shortly be like a man who confesses unwillingly? a new, judges, and unheard-of example in human affairs is being opened up:

[7] nemo umquam ideo torqueri non debuit, quia mentiretur.

[7] No one ever for that reason ought not to have been tortured, because he was lying.

Sed etsi fas est, iudices, dubitare de fide quaestionum, alius debet esse suspectus, ille scilicet, in quo servilium pectorum recessus, in quo verniles excutiuntur artes. quotiens tortori est rixa cum membris, tum cruciatus agnoscit adsiduis suppliciis durata patientia, ~et homini non est nova res dolor corpus appliciti~ quod scissa lacerataque veste primum ferre non potest pudorem, quod nescit ad flagellorum vices membra conponere nec ullo verbera frangit occursu. nos, inquam, sumus, quos leges supervacuum putavere torqueri.

But even if, judges, it is lawful to doubt the credibility of interrogations-by-torture, another should be the one suspected—namely, he, in whom the recesses of servile hearts, in whom the vernile arts, are shaken out. As often as the torturer has a brawl with the limbs, then the cruciation recognizes a patience hardened by assiduous punishments, ~and to a man the pain of a body pressed close is no new thing~ in that, with garment torn and lacerated, at first he cannot bear the shame; in that he does not know how to compose his limbs to the turns of the scourges, nor by any counter-encounter breaks the lashes. We, I say, are those whom the laws have considered it superfluous to torture.

unde nobis inter ista secretum? in tormentis libero homini opus est patientia, ut verum dicat.

Where for us amid these is secrecy? In torments a free man has need of patience, that he may speak the truth.

'Sed,' inquit, 'ideo torqueri non debes, quia exigis, ut torquearis.' aliud sunt, inimice, tormenta, aliud velle torqueri. felices illos, qui recusare voluerunt! meretur clementiam et favorem quisquis ad illa tremens exanimisque perducitur, quem vix a genibus tortor abducit, cui iam scissas quoque difficile possis eripere vestes.

'But,' he says, 'for that reason you ought not to be tormented, because you demand to be tormented.' Torments are one thing, enemy, and to will to be tormented is another. Fortunate those who have wished to refuse! Clemency and favor are deserved by whoever is led to them trembling and lifeless with fear, whom the torturer scarcely drags away from the knees, from whom you could with difficulty even tear away the garments already ripped.

ego quemadmodum vultis deprecer, qui videor provocasse tortorem? ille, ille sine ulla miseratione laceratur, cui ad singulos ictus dicitur: 'ipse voluisti', quem non decet rogare, qui creditur fingere proclamationes, simulare gemitus, de quo primum videntur vindicanda tormenta.

How am I to plead for mercy, as you wish, I who seem to have provoked the torturer? That man, that man is lacerated without any commiseration, to whom at every blow it is said: 'you yourself wanted it'; on whose behalf it is not fitting to entreat, who is believed to feign outcries, to simulate groans, and in whose case the torments themselves seem first to require vindication.

[8] non invenio, iudices, quid sperare possit, qui mentitur et exigit quaestionem. homini, qui vult torqueri, diu non creditur nec verum dicenti. nec est, iudices, quod putetis adeo mihi tristissimam orbitatem omnis humanorum pectorum rapuisse sensus, ut non intelligam petere me, quo[d] dives possit evadere, et paene magis pro percussore torqueri; sed quid me facere vultis?

[8] I do not find, judges, what he can hope for, who lies and demands an examination by torture. To a man who wants to be tortured, belief is not granted for a long time, not even when he speaks the truth. Nor, judges, is there reason for you to think that so most-grievous bereavement has snatched from me every feeling of human hearts, such that I do not understand that I am asking for that by which a rich man can evade, and to be tortured almost more on behalf of the assassin; but what do you want me to do?

non debeo posse mentiri, homo qui, cum filius meus occideretur, interfui. veritati tantum praesto patientiam, exigo quaestionem, in qua quid dicturus sim, nescio; quid debeam dicere, vidi, scio. vultis post hoc argumentis, suspicionibus agam?

I ought not to be able to lie, I, a man who was present when my son was being slain. To truth I render only patience; I demand the interrogation, in which what I am going to say, I do not know; what I ought to say, I have seen, I know. Do you wish after this that I proceed by arguments, by suspicions?

leviora tormenta sunt!

they are lighter torments!

Non invenio, iudices, cur renuat tantopere dives quaestionem, post quam supersunt adhuc incerta ac dubia. facinus est tamen me non torqueri, si mihi torto utique credendum est. quousque me, crudelissime mortalium, metus simulatione deludis?

I do not find, judges, why the rich man so greatly refuses the inquisition, after which there still remain uncertain and dubious matters. Yet it is an outrage that I am not racked, if, when I am racked, credence is in any case to be given to me. How long, cruellest of mortals, will you delude me by the simulation of fear?

ego magis, qui postulo tormenta, timeo, ego, qui nihil facere potui, cum viderem. suspecta tibi est nostra patientia; vides enim, hortatur nos contra dolorem primae robur aetatis, solidum plenumque corpus. quam facilis, quam expedita res est torquere miserum!

I rather, I who call for torment, am afraid, I, who could do nothing when I saw. Our patience is suspect to you; for you see, the robustness of prime age, a solid and full body, encourages us against pain. How easy, how expeditious a thing it is to torture a wretch!

adfero ad quaestionem iam planctibus membra liventia; quantum animae, quantum sanguinis orbitas traxit, quanto inbecilliora sunt haec cotidianis lamentationibus everberata vitalia! quicquam ergo fingere potest hic pallor, haec macies et iam torto similis infirmitas? adice quod nihil minus in quaestione diu possis dicere, si mentiaris, quam quod oculis scias, et brevissimum confessionis est genus destituisse quod videris.

I bring to the inquisition limbs already livid with bruises from beatings of lamentation; how much bereavement has drawn off of breath and of blood, how much more feeble are these vitals, lashed by daily lamentations! Can this pallor, this emaciation, and a weakness now like that of one already tortured, feign anything? Add that in an interrogation you can least of all keep saying for long, if you are lying, anything other than what you know with your eyes, and the briefest kind of confession is to have deserted what you have seen.

[9] felices, dives, quos tortor interrogat, qui non habent in sua potestate credentis! impatientissima res est posse, cum velis, desinere torqueri.

[9] fortunate are the rich, those whom the torturer interrogates, who do not have in their own power the one who believes! The most intolerable thing is to be able, when you wish, to cease being tortured.

'Quin potius,' inquit, 'probas?' fiduciam hominis, qui sciat hoc me vidisse solum! sine dubio, dives, multa te poterant argumenta convincere, si deferret alius, et eras manifestissimus reus, si mihi percussor quaerendus esset. quis enim credibilior in caede pauperis quam dives inimicus, aut de quo facilius constare posset scelere, <quam> quod non habet nisi de sola ultione <rationem>? non invenit multa verba vidisse; nec mihi debet perire probatio ista, quia poteras et accusari.

'Why not rather,' he says, 'prove it?' Confidence of a man who knows that I alone saw this! Without doubt, rich man, many arguments could have convicted you, if someone else were bringing the charge, and you were a most manifest defendant, if I had to seek the assassin. For who is more credible in the slaughter of a poor man than a rich enemy, or about whom could wickedness more easily be established, <than> one who has no <motive> except for vengeance alone? One who has seen does not find many words; nor ought that proof to perish for me, because you also could have been accused.

exigit probationes, cum facinus sic disposuerit, ne possit probari. quem mihi nox testem, quos praestare potuit oculos nuda semper, incomitata paupertas? tibi servus a conscientia sceleris summovendus fuit et ista ratione, <ne> quis interesset, quem putares posse torqueri, et totum facinus in has angustias redegisti, ut illud soli scirent, qui facieba[n]t et cui non crederetur.

you demand proofs, when you have so arranged the crime that it cannot be proved. What witness could night provide me? what eyes could ever-naked, unaccompanied poverty furnish? A slave had to be kept away from any consciousness of the crime by you, and by that plan, so that no one would be present whom you might think could be tortured; and you have reduced the whole crime into these narrow straits: that it should be known only by those who were doing it, and by the one who would not be believed.

numquid dubitaretis credere, si alius sciret hoc scelus? facinus est ideo filii mei perire vindictam, quia pater vidi.

Would you hesitate to believe, if someone else knew this crime? It is a crime that therefore my son’s vengeance should perish, because I, the father, saw.

Ego vero, iudices, et ex hoc, quod recusat dives quaestionem, partem probationis implevi: accusatoris tormenta numquam timebit reus, nisi de quo credi potest et ante tormenta.

I, indeed, judges, even from this fact—that the rich man refuses the inquest—have fulfilled a part of the proof: the defendant will never fear the accuser’s torments, unless he is one about whom it is possible to believe even before the torments.

'Cur,' inquit, 'si mihi causae sceleris simultates nostrae erant, non te potius occidi?' saeve, crudelis, ego te hoc maxime argumento percussorem probo, quod mihi pepercisti. tuum fuit hoc, inimice, commentum, occiso filio servare patrem. parcendi tamen mihi vel haec fuit ratio, quod defendi non poteras, si duo perissemus.

'Why,' he says, 'if for me the causes of the crime were our mutual enmities, did I not rather kill you?' Savage, cruel man, I prove you the assassin chiefly by this very argument, that you spared me. This was your contrivance, enemy: with the son killed, to preserve the father. Yet even this was a reason for sparing me: that you could not be defended, if we two had perished.

[10] audire mehercules mihi videor illas cogitationes, illa scelerum secreta consilia: 'quid mihi cum vulneribus, quid cum cruore consumptae et iam paene abeuntis animae? occidatur potius ille iam iuvenis, iam inimicus; de sene vindicabitis me, patris oculi.' vis mirer, quod me nolueris occidere? queri mehercules te puto, quod in senectute magni doloris vita brevis est.

[10] By Hercules, I seem to hear those thoughts, those secret counsels of crimes: 'What have I to do with wounds, what with the gore of a soul consumed and now almost departing? Rather let that one be killed—now a youth, now an enemy; you will avenge me upon the old man, you, a father’s eyes.' Do you wish me to marvel that you were unwilling to kill me? By Hercules, I think you complain that in old age the life of great grief is brief.

pepercisti mihi, quomodo excogitant artes detinere supplicia, et de pereuntibus magis saevitia fruitur dolore suspenso. agnosco noctis illius, inimice, clementiam: quod me torqueri non vis, ex hoc venit, quod neque occidisti.

You spared me, just as the arts contrive to hold back torments, and savagery takes greater delight, in regard to those who are perishing, in pain suspended. I acknowledge, enemy, the clemency of that night: that you do not wish me to be tortured comes from this, that you did not kill me.

Temptat, iudices, efficere dives, ut incredibile videatur, quod occisum ab eo contendo filium. dicturum nunc putatis magis interesse securitatis, ut quis facinus sibi tantummodo credat, et id tutius esse inimico patr<ant>e quam conscio? plus est quod affirmo: filium in conspectu patris occidere sic operae pretium est, si illud ipse facias.

He tries, judges, being rich, to effect that it seem incredible that the son was slain by him, which I maintain. Do you think he would now say that it is more in the interest of security that one confide the crime to himself alone, and that it is safer to have the enemy perpetrating than privy as an accomplice? I assert something more: to kill a son in the sight of his father is thus worth the effort—if you yourself do it.

perdit plurimam de sceleribus voluptatem qui mandat, et minus gratiae rebus ex nuntio venit. occidet alius te iubente, sed vulneribus illis non fruentur oculi, sed plus est, ut singultibus abeuntis animae, ut cruore satieris, ut conlapsum palpitantemque videas, ut me vidente. convenit, iudices, quod ipse dives hoc fecit et quod ego vidi.

He loses the very greatest pleasure of crimes who commissions them, and less of the gratification of deeds comes from a message. Another will kill at your bidding, but your eyes will not enjoy those wounds, but there is more, that you be sated with the sobs of the departing soul, with the blood, that you see him collapsed and palpitating, with me looking on. It accords, judges, that the rich man himself did this and that I saw it.

ratio saevitiae est, ut aliquis coram eo occidatur, propter quem occiditur.

The rationale of savagery is that someone be killed in the presence of the one because of whom he is killed.

[11] Fidem vestram, iudices, ne me ideo non putetis vidisse, quia nihil feci, servulorum iste libertorumque dolor est occiso homine statim scire, quid facis, exclamare, procurrere, fidem deorum hominumque testari. ~postea cum lacrimis veni.~ vultis percussorem invadam, vultis fugientem sequar? interim deficientem quis excipiet, cui se morientis inponet infirmitas?

[11] By your good faith, judges, do not think for that reason that I did not see, because I did nothing; that is the sorrow of little slaves and freedmen—to know at once, when a man has been slain, what you are doing, to cry out, to run forward, to attest the good faith of gods and men. ~afterwards I came with tears.~ Do you want me to rush upon the striker, do you want me to follow the fugitive? meanwhile, who will receive the failing man, upon whom will the infirmity of the dying man lay itself?

scis profecto, percussor, facinus ordinare, disponere: filium occidere coram patre secretum est.

you surely know, assassin, how to order a crime, to dispose it: to kill a son before his father is secrecy.

Miseremini, iudices, igitur, ut hinc quoque velitis aestimare divitis conscientiam, quod contentus est, ne de scelere quaeratur. non habet fiduciam hominis, qui me sciat metiri, et, quod non minus debetis attendere quam si fateretur, non putat sibi salvum ut iterum neget. dissimules licet, non est innocentiae metus, cum timentur aliena tormenta.

Have mercy, judges, therefore, so that from this too you may be willing to estimate the rich man’s conscience, namely that he is content that there be no inquiry about the crime. He does not have the confidence of a man—he knows that I measure him—and, which you ought to attend to no less than if he were confessing, he does not think it safe for himself to deny again. Though you may dissemble, fear does not belong to innocence, when others’ torments are feared.

quid ais, dives? orbitatem meam in tale scelus <a>usumque convert<i> et si<c> paterni doloris auctoritas facinus inpingit alienum? deinde non ipse adfers eculeos, non ipse disponis ignes?

What do you say, rich man? Would you convert my bereavement into such a crime and daring, and thus does the authority of paternal sorrow impose an alien crime? Then is it not you yourself who bring the racks, you yourself who arrange the fires?

dicerem mehercules te velle torqueri: ego scindo vestes, tu intremiscis, ego ad flagella nudo corpus, te facit pallor exanimem, ego eculeos, ego posco flammas, tu non habes in meo dolore patientiam. rogo, quid aliud faceret qui occidisset?

I would say, by Hercules, that you want to be tortured: I tear my garments, you tremble; I bare my body for flagellation, pallor makes you exanimate; I call for the racks, I demand flames; you do not have patience in my pain. I ask, what else would one do who had slain?

Quid nunc agam miser? gratiam confessionis ante tormenta consumpsi. scio, quanto credibilius fuisset, si hoc statim inter ignes, inter flagella dixissem, et multum de auctoritate primae proclamationis amisi.

What now shall I do, wretch that I am? I have consumed the credit of confession before the torments. I know how much more credible it would have been, if I had said this at once amid the fires, amid the scourges, and I have lost much of the authority of the first proclamation.

non est tamen, quod supervacua putetis esse tormenta, tamquam dixerim, quicquid sciebam; habeo adhuc ex illo multa referre secreto, quae argumenta faciet dolor.

it is not, however, that you should think the torments to be superfluous, as if I had said whatever I knew; I still have from that many things to report in secret, which pain will make into proofs.

[12] non refert, an me vidisse dixerim; tormentis hoc probaturus sum debuisse mihi credi ante tormenta.

[12] it does not matter whether I said that I had seen; by torments I am going to prove this: that I ought to have been believed before the torments.

O quantopere nunc, inimice, torqueris, quod te coram iudicibus interrogo, quod hoc non potes mihi fateri! sed si bene gaudii tui perspicio secretum, non putas te negare, quia vidi. adrogantissime percussorum, evasisse te putabas, quod illud duo tantum sciebamus?

O how greatly now, enemy, you are tormented, because I interrogate you before the judges, because you cannot confess this to me! But if I rightly see through the secret of your joy, you do not think you can deny it, because I have seen. Most arrogant of assassins, did you think you had escaped, because only two of us knew that thing?

meis, meis hoc ignibus nega, et, dum me per singulos artus tortor interrogat, perfer saltem non credendi patientiam, cum ego me vidisse proclamem, tu nullam adferas innocentiae probationem. non potes aliter absolvi, quam ut illud ego negem.

Deny this to my, to my fires, and, while the torturer interrogates me through each several limb, at least endure the patience of not being believed, since I proclaim that I have seen, you bring forward no proof of innocence. You cannot be absolved otherwise than that I deny that thing.

Ne[c] tamen, iudices, putetis solo me calamitatium ambitu petere quaestionem, dabo propter quod me torqueatis irati. filium meum, illum singulis vobis universisque laudandum, iuxta quem felix, iuxta quem adrogans eram, occidit mea nimia libertas. ita ego te non eculeo efferam, non super ardentis exeram flammas?

Nor yet, judges, should you think that I seek an inquiry only within the ambit of calamities; I will supply a cause on account of which, in anger, you may rack me. My son—that one to be praised by each of you and by all, beside whom I was happy, beside whom I was arrogant—was slain by my excessive liberty. So then, shall I not hoist you upon the rack, shall I not ply you over blazing flames?

nunc me vindicas, nunc tueris: modo, modo coram me filium meum dives occidit fiducia tui. concurrite, omnes liberi, omnes parentes, urite, lacerate hos, hos primum patris oculos, distrahite has manus, quae nihil pro pereunte fecerunt, hoc corpus, haec membra, quae de conplexu latronis vulnera nulla retulerunt. sive hoc poenam sive vultis esse clementiam, debeo tam miser esse, dum probo, quam cum viderem.

now you vindicate me, now you protect me: just now, just now before my face a rich man killed my son by confidence in you. run together, all you children, all you parents, burn, lacerate these—these eyes of a father first—tear apart these hands, which did nothing for the one perishing, this body, these limbs, which from the embrace of the brigand brought back no wounds. whether you wish this to be punishment or clemency, I ought to be as wretched while I prove it as when I saw it.

[13] Miserum me, si fas est in quaestione mentiri! sine dubio dives hoc captavit recusando quaestionem, ne crederetur, sed dura parumper, anime, vidisti. nunc infelix ad nos, misera pietas, redi, quod fieri in ipsa orbitate non potuit, et vires, quas inprovisus abstulit dolor, probatio restituet.

[13] Miserable me, if it is lawful in an interrogation to lie! Without doubt the rich man contrived this by refusing the questioning, so that he would not be believed; but, my soul, you have seen hard things for a little while. Now, unhappy one, to us return, wretched piety, which could not be done in the very bereavement, and proof will restore the strengths which unforeseen grief took away.

cumflammis urentur nuda vitalia, nox illa occurrat, cum membra fiduculae, flagella laxaverint, rursus ante oculos sit morientis unici vultus, haereant verba percussoris, mandata pereuntis. filium spectasse morientem longa praesentia est. nescis, infelix senectus, quanta tibi opus sit veritatis contentione, ut paeniteat divitem, quod non duos occidit.

when with flames the naked vitals will be burned, let that night come upon you, when the cords have released the limbs, the scourges have slackened; again let the face of the dying only son be before your eyes; let the words of the murderer cling, the mandates of the perishing one. To have gazed upon a son dying is a long presence. You do not know, unhappy old age, how great a contention for truth you have need of, so that the rich man may repent that he did not kill two.

iam nunc tamen vobis, iudices, infirmitatem meam allego, commendo: si me forte fiduculae, flagella mutaverint, ego tamen vidi. si vocem in eculeis ignibusque perdidero, ego tamen vidi. si totus undique dolor pariter admotus occiderit, ego tamen vidi.

Even now, however, to you, judges, I allege my infirmity, I commend it: if by chance the cords, the scourges should change me, nevertheless I saw. If on the rack and in the fires I should lose my voice, nevertheless I saw. If pain, applied equally from all sides, should kill me outright, nevertheless I saw.

alioquin, nisi hoc animo meo, nisi liqueret oculis, morerer hoc dolore, quo puto me posse torqueri.

Otherwise, unless this were present to my mind, unless it were clear to my eyes, I would die of this pain, by which I think I can be tortured.