With one dangerous man he had the misfortune to come into collision in the year that followed his consulship.  This was the Clodius of whom we have heard something in the preceding chapter.  The two men had hitherto been on fairly good terms.  Clodius, as we have seen, belonged to one of the noblest families in Rome, was a man of some ability and wit, and could make himself agreeable when he was pleased to do so.  But events for which Cicero was not in the least to blame brought about a life-long enmity between them.  Toward the close of the year Clodius had been guilty of an act of scandalous impiety, intruding himself, disguised as a woman, into some peculiarly sacred rites which the matrons of Rome were accustomed to perform in honor of the “Good Goddess.”  He had powerful friends, and an attempt was made to screen him, which Cicero, who was genuinely indignant at the fellow’s wickedness, seems to have resisted.  In the end he was put upon his trial, though it was before a jury which had been specially packed for the occasion.  His defense was an alibi, an attempt, that is, to prove that he was elsewhere on the night when he was alleged to have misconducted himself at Rome.  He brought forward witnesses who swore that they had seen him at the very time at Interamna, a town in Umbria, and a place which was distant at least two days’ journey from Rome.  To rebut this evidence Cicero was brought forward by the prosecution.  As he stepped forward the partisans of the accused set up a howl of disapproval.  But the jury paid him the high compliment of rising from their seats, and the uproar ceased.  He deposed that Clodius had been at his house on the morning of the day in question.

Clodius was acquitted.  If evidence had any thing to do with the result, it was the conduct of Caesar that saved him.  It was in his house that the alleged intrusion had taken place, and he had satisfied himself by a private examination of its inmates that the charge was true.  But now he professed to know nothing at all about the matter.  Probably the really potent influence in the case was the money which Crassus liberally distributed among the jurors.  The fact of the money was indeed notorious.  Some of the jury had pretended that they were in fear of their lives, and had asked for a guard.  “A guard!” said Catulus, to one of them, “what did you want a guard for? that the money should not be taken from you?”

But Clodius, though he had escaped, never forgave the man whose evidence had been given against him.  Cicero too felt that there as war to the knife between them.  On the first meeting of the Senate after the conclusion of the trial he made a pointed attack upon his old acquaintance.  “Lentulus,” he said, “was twice acquitted, and Catiline twice, and now this third malefactor has been let loose on the commonwealth by his judges.  But, Clodius, do not misunderstand what has happened.  It is for the prison, not for the city, that your judges have kept you; not to keep you in the country, but to deprive you of the privilege of exile was what they intended.  Be of good cheer, then, Fathers.  No new evil has come upon us, but we have found out the evil that exists.  One villain has been put upon his trial, and the result has taught us that there are more villains than one.”