Section 8

Quintus Metellus, his very close friend. If citizenship and the law are all we are discussing, I need say nothing more: the case is made. For which of these points, Grattius, can be disproved? Will you deny that he was enrolled at Heraclea at that time? Marcus Lucullus is here, a man of the highest standing, scrupulous integrity, and trustworthiness. He declares that he does not suppose it but knows it, did not hear of it but saw it, was not merely present but secured it himself. The delegates from Heraclea are here, men of the highest distinction, who have come for this trial with official instructions and their community’s testimony. They state that he was enrolled at Heraclea. Do you now demand the public records of Heraclea, which we all know were destroyed when the archive burned during the Italian War? It is absurd to say nothing in answer to the evidence we have and to demand what we cannot have; to pass over human memory in silence and insist upon the memory preserved in writing; and, when you have the solemn assurance of a man of the highest distinction and the sworn, trustworthy testimony of a community of impeccable integrity, to reject evidence that cannot possibly be falsified and demand records that you yourself say are regularly tampered with.

Quintus Metellus, a very close friend of his. If we are speaking only about citizenship and the law, I have nothing more to say. The defense is complete.

Which of these facts can you challenge, Grattius? Can you deny his enrollment in Heraclea then? Here is Marcus Lucullus, a man whose standing, integrity, and trustworthiness are second to none. He says that he does not merely think this happened: he knows it. He did not hear about it: he saw it. He did not merely attend: he handled the business himself.

Representatives from Heraclea are also here, men of the highest standing. They have come for this trial with official instructions and testimony from their city. They confirm that the city enrolled him.

And now you ask for Heraclea’s official records? We all know that they were destroyed when the records office burned down during the Italian War. You give no answer to the evidence before us. Instead you demand what we cannot produce. That is absurd. You say nothing about what people remember, but insist on written records. You have the conscientious testimony of a highly distinguished man, and the sworn, trustworthy assurance of a town of the greatest integrity. Yet you reject this evidence, which cannot possibly be falsified, and ask for written records that, as you yourself say, are regularly falsified.