What! he—­the man who still with steadfast heart Strove for his country, who in perilous days Spared neither life nor fortune, and bestowed Most help when most she needed; who surpassed In wit all other men.  Father of Gods, His house—­yea, his!—­I saw devoured by fire; And ye, ungrateful, foolish, without thought Of all wherein he served you, could endure To see him banished; yea, and to this hour Suffer that he prolong an exile’s day.

Still obstacle after obstacle was interposed, and it was not till the fourth of August that the decree passed through all its stages and became finally law.  Cicero, who had been waiting at the point of Greece nearest to Italy, to take the earliest opportunity of returning, had been informed by his friends that he might now safely embark.  He sailed accordingly on the very day when the decree was passed, and reached Brundisium on the morrow.  It happened to be the day on which the foundation of the colony was celebrated, and also the birthday of Tullia, who had come so far to meet her father.  The coincidence was observed by the towns-people with delight.  On the eighth the welcome news came from Rome, and Cicero set out for the capital.  “All along my road the cities of Italy kept the day of my arrival as a holiday; the ways were crowded with the deputations which were sent from all parts to congratulate me.  When I approached the city, my coming was honored by such a concourse of men, such a heartiness of congratulation as are past believing.  The way from the gates, the ascent of the Capitol, the return to my home made such a spectacle that in the very height of my joy I could not but be sorry that a people so grateful had yet been so unhappy, so cruelly oppressed.”  “That day,” he said emphatically, “that day was as good as immortality to me.”

CHAPTER XI.

A BRAWL AND ITS CONSEQUENCES.

Clodius, who had taken the lead in driving Cicero into exile, was of course furious at his return, and continued to show him an unceasing hostility.  His first care was to hinder the restoration of his property.  He had contrived to involve part at least of this in a considerable difficulty.  Cicero’s house on the Palatine Hill had been pulled down and the area dedicated—­so at least Clodius alleged—­to the Goddess of Liberty.  If this was true, it was sacred forever; it could not be restored.  The question was, Was it true?  This question was referred to the Pontiffs as judges of such matters.  Cicero argued the case before them, and they pronounced in his favor.  It was now for the Senate to act.  A motion was made that the site should be restored.  Clodius opposed it, talking for three hours, till the anger of his audience compelled him to bring his speech to an end.  One of the tribunes in his interest put his veto on the motion, but was frightened into withdrawing it.  But Clodius was not at the end of his resources.  A set of armed ruffians under his command drove out the workmen who were rebuilding the house.  A few days afterwards he made an attack on Cicero himself.  He was wounded in the struggle which followed, and might, says Cicero, have been killed, “but,” he adds, “I am tired of surgery.”