The event soon happened which gave rise to the misfortunes of his whole life. The root of the conspiracy was torn up; but many fibres of it had still remained in the ground, and grew up again. P. Clodius was descended in the direct line from old Appius Claudius, being the youngest of the three sons of one Appius Claudius. The eldest of these, who bore the hereditary name of Appius, was a good-natured man, very superstitious, narrow-minded, and commonplace, though on account of his high rank he was raised to the first dignities. There were also two sisters, one of whom was married to Lucullus. Thus Clodius belonged to the very noblest aristocracy: but mere nobility was no longer thought of, and power was all that men cared for. In that profligate age, P. Clodius was among the most abandoned: he is one of those persons who have had most to do with the ruin of Rome. At the festival of the _Bona Dea_, which, like the Thesmophoriæ, was celebrated only by women in the house of the pontifex maximus, he smuggled himself in, in disguise, that he might meet with Pompeia, the wife of Julius Cæsar; but he was discovered, and tried for it. According to the true Roman law, the trial ought to have been before the spiritual court of the pontiffs, where he would undoubtedly have been condemned: but we see from this instance that the real jurisdiction, except in cases which were strictly ceremonial, must have been taken away from them. Clodius wanted to prove an alibi, and had the impudence to call in Cicero as a witness. The latter is said till then not to have had any quarrel with him, and the fellow was so dangerous that he ought to have contented himself with declining to give evidence; but Cicero, as we are told, to clear himself with his domineering wife of all connection with that family, not only bore true witness, but also gave free vent to his wit: he said things of Clodius in open court which put him in a ridiculous light, and could not but have caused his conviction. But Clodius had bought himself off from the condemnation of the Judges; he had actually lodged the money for his acquittal. For this day’s work, Clodius never forgave Cicero, and he thirsted for revenge. Pompey now came back to Rome, where he renewed his former behaviour to Cicero, treating him not only with indifference but with scorn; and he encouraged Clodius to undertake something against him. Clodius, having now got a plebeian to make a show of adopting him, stood for the tribuneship, and was returned. Such _transitiones ad plebem_ were quite lawful: even in former times, no adoption would have been needed at all; for one had only to go over to the _plebs_, as many patricians did, when all that was required was that the censor admitted them. But people had now no longer any clear notions in these things, and Cicero himself impugns the validity of that tribuneship.