****** Do you not see now, do you not feel, O you beast, what
complaints men make of your impudence? No one complains that a Syrian, that
a man whom nobody knows, that some one of that body of lately emancipated
slaves, was made consul. For that complexion, like that of slaves, and those
hairy cheeks and discoloured teeth, did not deceive us: your eyes, your
eyebrows, your brow, in short your whole countenance, which is, as it were,
a sort of silent language of the mind, led men into error, this it was which
led those to whom this man was unknown into mistake and error, and blunders.
There were but few of us who were acquainted with those foul vices of yours;
few of us who knew the deficiency of your abilities, your stolid manner, and
your embarrassed way of speaking. Your voice had never been heard in the
forum; no one had had any experience of your wisdom in counsel: you had not
only never performed any, I will not say illustrious exploit, but any action
at all that was known of either in war or at home. You crept
into honours through men's blunders, by the recommendation of some old
smoke-dried images, though there is nothing in you at all resembling them
except your colour.
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