"Since at Rome there is no place for honest pursuits, no profit to be got by honest toil--my fortune is less to-day than it was yesterday, and to-morrow must again make that little less--we purpose emigrating to the spot where Dædalus put off his wearied wings, while my gray hairs are still but few, my old age green and erect; while something yet remains for Lachesis to spin, and I can bear myself on my own legs, without a staff to support my right hand. Let us leave our native land. There let Arturius and Catulus live. Let those continue in it who turn black to white; for whom it is an easy matter to get contracts for building temples, clearing rivers, constructing harbors,[108] cleansing the sewers, the furnishing a funeral,[109] and under the mistress-spear set up the slave to sale."[110] These fellows, who in former days were horn-blowers, and constant attendants on the municipal amphitheatres, and whose puffed cheeks were well known through all the towns, now themselves exhibit gladiatorial shows, and when the thumbs of the rabble are turned up, let any man be killed to court the mob. Returned from thence, they farm the public jakes. And why not every thing? Since these are the men whom Fortune, whenever she is in a sportive mood, raises from the dust to the highest pinnacle of greatness.[111] What shall _I_ do at Rome? I can not lie; if a book is bad, I can not praise it and beg a copy. I know not the motions of the stars. I neither will nor can promise a man to secure his father's death. I never inspected the entrails of a toad.[112] Let others understand how to bear to a bride the messages and presents of the adulterer; no one shall be a thief by my co-operation; and therefore I go forth, a companion to no man,[113] as though I were crippled, and a trunk useless from its right hand being disabled.[114] Who, now-a-days, is beloved except the confidant of crime, and he whose raging mind[115] is boiling with things concealed, and that must never be divulged? He that has made you the partaker of an honest secret, thinks that he owes you nothing, and nothing will he ever pay. He will be Verres' dear friend, who can accuse Verres at any time he pleases. Yet set not thou so high a price on all the sands of shady Tagus,[116] and the gold rolled down to the sea, as to lose your sleep, and to your sorrow take bribes that ought to be spurned,[117] and be always dreaded by your powerful friend.