[1] Maximus Claudius, members of the council, I was quite certain and took it as true that Sicinius Aemilianus, an old man of notorious recklessness, faced with a lack of crimes, was about to use nothing but noise to fill an accusation of me which he began before he thought it over. Obviously, anyone innocent can be accused falsely, but he can't lose the case unless he's guilty.

For this one reason, I'm confident and, by the gods, I'm glad that with you as the judge I have the ways and means to clear philosophy's name before the ignorant and to prove myself, even though these pathetic slanders were serious at first glance, making a quick defense difficult. For, as you remember, five or six days ago, when I had begun to press a case about an agreement against the Granii on behalf of my wife Pudentilla, his supporters began to stalk me with slander while I was otherwise occupied and accuse me of black magic and (last but not least) the murder of my stepson Pontianus.

When I realized that these were brought out not so much as crimes for a trial, but as slurs for a quarrel, I urged them with frequent demands to go further and make the accusation. But then, when Aemelianus saw that you were also keenly interested and that the matter depended on his own words, he timidly began to seek cover for his recklessness. [2] Then after he was forced to write it down, it immediately slipped his mind that, not too long ago, he'd been making a lot of noise, shouting that I'd killed Pontianus, the son of his own brother. All of a sudden, he was silent about the death of his young nephew.

He seemed to give up completely on his description of such a great crime, and the charge of magic, more easily shown to be disgraceful than respectable was the only one he chose to bring against me. And even this he wouldn't dare to state openly, but in fact, the next day he makes this accusation in the name of my stepson Sicinius Pudens, still a boy, and adds that he himself is going to assist, in this new fashion of challenging through another. Clearly, this is so that under the pretext of the boy's young age, he himself would not be punished for false accusation. And when you so skillfully noticed what he was doing and so ordered him to bring the announced accusation once again in his own name, he promised he would make it impossible to strike him down up close, but even now against you he stubbornly makes little attacks from a distance.

So the one who has, over and over again, run from the danger of accusing, sticks with the indulgence of assisting.

Therefore, even before he pleaded the case, it was easy for anyone with half a brain to understand just what kind of case it was going to be; the expert and devisor was afraid to be the official author of the charge. And this is Sicinius Aemilianus we're talking about, who, if he had found something true against me, never would've hesitated so much in accusing a stranger of so many great crimes: Aemilianus disgraced as false his uncle's will, which he knew to be a true one. In fact, he's so stubborn that, when Lollius Urbicus, a most renowned man, had proclaimed that the will seemed genuine and that he ought to agree with the meeting of the consulars, that idiot -- I mean, man -- still swore, against that renowned voice, that the will was nevertheless a fake, so much so that Lollius Urbicus had a tough time keeping himself from blasting Aemilianus.

[3] Relying both on your fairness and on my innocence, I hope that Lollius's voice will burst forth in this court, too, since this guy, knowing I'm innocent, accuses me pretty damned easily. After all, as I've said, he was convicted of perjury before the prefect of the city in this very prominent case.

For in fact, just as a good man is more careful and is on guard against wrongdoing after it happens once, in the same way, a man who has a bad nature renews more boldly his bad deeds and now the more often he does wrong, the more openly he does it. In fact, shame is just like clothing: the older it gets, the less you care about wearing it. So I judge it necessary on behalf of the integrity of my sense of honor to refute all the malicious nonsense before I approach the real accusation. For, I undertake not only my defense, but also a defense of Philosophy, whose greatness spurns even the least blame as if it were the greatest crime.

On account of this, not long ago, Aemilianus's supporters spread around with hired talkativeness many things they just made up, some especially against me and other matters generally hurled against philosophers by the uninitiated. Although what these guys have said can usefully be considered babblings for a bribe, paid for with wages of impudence, now, since it is an admitted custom of noisy lawyers, this is the type of affair in which their tongues are used to heaping slime for another's grief. Nevertheless, their tongues must be refuted with a few words. I work hard not to admit any blemish or lie against myself, and in this way, if I skip something from these worthless matters, I won't seem to have acknowledged it rather than to have ignored it. For it's normal for a modest and honorable soul, if you ask me, to find false accusations severe, considering that even people who've done something bad to anyone, nevertheless, are moved very much when they hear rumors, and grow angry, although from then on, as they start to do evil deeds, they also get used to hearing about them. Because, even if others are silent, these guys themselves are still conscious that they are at fault. But every good and innocent person, having sensitive ears not used to hearing mean things, being used to praise, not abuse, is heavy-hearted to hear such things said about him undeservedly--these things which this innocent man could easily hurl at others.

But, if I seem to want to argue against foolish and frivolous fluff publicly, this ought to be blamed on those for whom it is a disgrace to have hurled these things, not on me, for whom it will be honorable to have dismantled these charges.

[4] You heard this said a little earlier, at the beginning of the accusation:

"We accuse before you a philosopher, handsome and as fluent in Greek as in Latin."

What a crime!

For unless I'm mistaken, with these very words Tannonius Pudens, not a terribly well-educated man, began accusing me. If only such horrible crimes of beauty and eloquence had been true, I'd have easily said to him what Homer's Paris says to Hector:

OU)/ TOI A)PO/BLHT' E)STI\ QEW=N E)RIKUDE/A DW=RA,
O(/SSA KEN AU)TOI\ DW=SIN, E(KW\N D' OU)K A)/N TIS E(/LOITO

I would answer these things, concerning beauty.

Furthermore: philosophers are allowed to have handsome faces. Pythagoras, who announced publicly that he was the first philosopher, was the most outstanding handsome guy of his time. Similarly, it is agreed that Zeno, that ancient one arising from Velia, who was the first to discover a refutation by a most clever method, this Zeno was also the most beautiful man by far, as Plato asserts. Similarly, many philosophers are spoken of, a most respectable group, who used to adorn their bodies.

But this defense, as I have said, has very little to do with me, since (in addition to the mediocrity of my beauty) my constant study
wipes away every grace from my body,
weakens my bearing,
sucks out my lifeblood,
blots out my color,
knocks out my strength.
This hair, which these opponents, in such an open lie, say I have allowed to grow to be an allurement of beauty -- you see how beautiful and delicate it is, how horribly entwined and tangled it is, similar to flaxen pillow-stuffings, and unbrushed, heaped up and forever knotted by my long neglect, not only in arranging, but in detangling! And thus, I think, the charge concerning hair, over which they tried to prove I deserved to lose my head, is sufficiently refuted.

[5] In fact, concerning eloquence: if I had any, it shouldn't seem shocking or enviable if from my youth I dedicated myself only to literary studies with the best men, with all other desires spurned, or if more than other men, I sought eloquence with considerable labor both day and night, with a downward view and at the cost of good health.

But they really should fear nothing from eloquence, which (if I've done anything at all) I aspire to rather than display. If what they say Statius Caecilius wrote in his poems is true, that innocence is eloquence, I confess to eloquence by this reasoning and I assert that I'll concede to no one concerning eloquence. For who would live more eloquently than I on this scale, I who certainly have never thought anything which I wouldn't dare express? I say I'm the most eloquent, since I've always considered every wrongdoing unspeakable. I'm the most eloquent, since there's no bad deed or word of mine which I wouldn't thus be able to discuss in public, just as now I'll discuss the verses which I wrote and which they brought forth as if they were shameful. You've noticed me growing angry with a laugh, since these guys announce themselves inconsistently and ignorantly.

[6] Therefore, first they read, from my performances, a note concerning toothpaste, written to a certain Calpurnianus. In his desire to harm me, he didn't see that, when he produced these letters against me, if I'd committed a crime, he's got a share of it, too. For the poem shows that he'd asked me for something to clean his teeth with:

Calpurnianus, this verse to you I write
And send you, since your mouth could use some cleaning,
Arabian spice to make your whole mouth bright,
An honest powder (if you catch my meaning).
To give your swollen gums a better bite,
And lose the food that may be intervening,
Just use this well: you'll be secure hereafter,
In case you bare your teeth (or gums) in laughter.

What's in there that a philosopher wouldn't entirely want to own up to?

Unless, perhaps, I'm to be censured for this, because I sent Calpurnianus the powder of Arabian fruits, which was a lot better for him than the filthy practice of the Iberians,who, as Catullus says, with their own urine "polish their teeth and red gums."

[7] I just saw some of you barely holding back laughter, when that orator harshly brought a charge of Oral Hygiene and publicly condemned the tooth powder with more indignation than anyone would a poison. And why? A philosopher must not disregard the charge -- that he allows nothing dirty on himself, endures nothing at all unlovely or unclean on the bare body -- especially the mouth, used most often, publicly and conspicuously, whether it
kisses someone
or converses with someone
or dissertates in a hall of justice
or commissions prayers in a sacred precinct.

Yes, speech comes before every act of man, and, as the premiere poet says, it rises from a wall of teeth. Now take someone speaking loftily: he would've said in his own way that for great men who care at all about speaking, the mouth should be cared for more than the rest of the body. After all, it's the antechamber of the mind and the portal of oratory and the assembly place of thoughts. In fact, if you ask me, I'd say that nothing's worse than for the filthy mouth and the gentlemanly free man to meet. For this part of a man is in a lofty place, seen immediately, and fluent in use; for in wild beasts and braying animals the humble mouth is pointed downwards toward their feet, close to food and footsteps, hardly ever seen, unless the animal is dead or raring to bite someone: but there's nothing more apparent in a silent man and nothing more noticeable in a speaking one, than the mouth.

Therefore, I'd be pleased if my "judge," Aemilianus, would respond by telling me, please, if he normally washes his feet; if he doesn't deny it, I wonder if he'd say that you've got to care more for your feet than for your teeth. Of course, if someone's like you, Aemilianus, and hardly ever opens his mouth except for bad words and slander, I'd think that he shouldn't care about his mouth or clean his teeth with exotic powder. It would make more sense for him to crumble coal from a funeral pyre on them, and he definitely shouldn't clean them with common water, but his guilty tongue, the accomplice of lies and bitterness, should always lie in its own stinking rankness. Because what's the point in having a neat and sparkly tongue but a black and filthy voice? Why puff black venom with snowy teeth, like a viper?

[8] As for everyone else, though, whoever knows that he's going to give a speech neither inappropriate nor unpleasant, accordingly washes his mouth beforehand, like a cup before a good drink.

But why should I go on about humans? The crocodile, that enormous beast which comes from the Nile, gapes harmlessly and offers its teeth to be cleaned. Because its huge mouth has no tongue and is usually submerged under water, many leeches get caught in its teeth. And when the crocodile creeps onto the river bank, a friendly bird plucks these out with its beak without any danger of injury.

[9] But enough of this. Let's look at some other verses. Now, they call these verses erotic, but they've read them so crudely that of course anyone would hate them.

And yet, what's so magical or evil about praising the boys of Scribonus Laetus with a poem? I'm a poet. This makes me a magician?

Has there ever been so likely a suspicion, so suitable a conjecture, or such a close-hitting charge as "Apuleius composed verses"? If they're bad, now, that's a crime: not of a philosopher, but of a poet. And if they're good, why do you accuse me?

"In fact, the verses he created are playful and amorous."

So this is my crime -- and you mistake the charge, and have me indicted for magic?

You don't seem to realize that there have been others who committed such crimes: among the Greeks were a certain Teian, and a Spartan, and a Cean, along with countless others. There was also the Lesbian woman, who wrote lustfully but with such grace that the sweetness of her songs overwhelmed the extravagance of her language. And in fact, among us there have been Aedituus, Porcius, and Catulus -- and these were also in the company of many others.

"But they weren't philosophers."

Consequently, will you also deny that Solon was a serious man and a philosopher? After all, he wrote this licentious verse: MHRW=N I(MEI/RWN KAI\ GLUKEROU= STO/MATOS. "Yearning after your thighs and sweet mouth" [LINK] Can all my verses put together contain anything as lewd as this one alone?

Why mention the writings of Diogenes the Cynic and Zeno the Stoic, the founder of his school, and so many others? Instead, let me recite my own verses again, so that they'll know that I'm not ashamed of them:

Critias is my love, and you my salvation, Charinus.
In my love, a part of my life is yours.
Have no fear: let fires burn where they will --
These twin flames, as I live, I will endure.
May I always be to you what you are to yourselves,
And you will be to me as are two eyes.

Garlands, sweetness and these songs I give to you.
I give you songs as garlands for your spirit,
I give you songs to celebrate this wondrous light
That comes to shine throughout your fourteenth spring.
I give you garlands, that your brow may bloom with spring,
And adorn with flowers the flower of your youth.
You give to me your spring in return for a spring flower,
That with gifts you may oustrip my gifts;
For woven garlands, you will give your body in embrace,
The kisses of your rosy mouth, for roses.
But if your reed excites my soul, my songs will yield,
Conquered by your sweetly singing pipe.

You've also observed that I'm blamed because I name the boys Charinus and Critias, and other names for the boys should really be given. This sort of thinking, though, would incriminate the works of others:
Catullus, because he named her Lesbia instead of Clodia;
Ticidus, because who he wrote as Perilla was actually Metella;
Propertius, who says Cynthia to disguise Hostia;
Tibullus, because she is Plania, yet his verses say Delia.

I would condemn C. Lucilius, however, although he's a satirist, because he defiled the boys Gentius and Macedo by using their actual names in his poem. And finally, the Mantuan poet was even more modest: like me, he praised the child of his friend Pollio in his light-hearted bucolic, but refrained from actual names and called himself Cordon and the boy Alexis.

Yet Aemilianus -- a barbarous man whose coarseness outstrips Virgilian shepherds and herdsmen; a man more austere by a long shot (or so he thinks), than Serranus, Curius and Fabricius -- says that this sort of verse doesn't suit a Platonic philosopher. But would you say the same thing, Aemilianus, if I teach you sample works of Plato himself? None of his poems survive except love elegies; all the others he fed to the fire, because, I gather, they weren't as fine as these. So learn the lines of the philosopher Plato to the boy Aster, if in fact you can still study letters at your age:

A)STH\R PRI\N ME\N E)/LAMPES E)NI\ ZWOI=SIN *E(W=|S:
NU=N DE\ QANW\N LA/MPEIS *E(/SPEROS E)N FQIME/NOIS.

A similar poem was composed by this same Plato for the boys Alexis and Phaedrus:

NU=N O(/TE MHDE\N *A)/LECIS O(/SON MO/NON EI)=F' O(/TI KALO/S,
W)=PTAI KAI\ PA/NTH| PA=SI PERIBLE/PETAI.
QUME/, MHVU/EIS KUSI\N O)STE/ON; EI)=T' A)NIH/SEI
U(/STERON. OU)X OU(/TW *FAI=DRON A)PWLE/SAMEN;

So that I don't spend too much time in recollection, I'll finish by reciting his most extreme verse about Dion of Syracuse: W)= E)MO\N E)KMH/NAS QUMO\N E)/RWTI *DI/WN. "Dion, you drive my heart mad with love." [LINK]

[11] But am I not being silly, addressing these matters before the court? Or is it rather you slanderers who are the fools, who drag these things into the charge, as if playing with verses were any indication of the strength of my character? Haven't you read how Catullus responded to his enemies?

The poet, rightly, should be chaste and decent But his verse may show a cast more . . . recent.

Moreover, do you think that Maximus will condemn anything that he knows I created with Plato for my model? For his verses, which I have just now gone through, are as pure as they are lucid, as chaste as they are simple in composition. For disguising works of this genre brings offense, and reciting them in public brings merriment. Indeed, nature has given a voice to the innocent, but only silence to the wicked.

[12] And so, I'm not going to discuss those lofty and divine Platonic writings, which no one knows about but a few very pious people. They say that the goddess Venus actually has a dual nature, and each part has different powers over lovers and a particular area of love. One part is the popular goddess, the one who is roused by common love to make the souls of men and beasts alike feel desire. She binds together the servile souls of smitten animals in an embrace with violent and immoderate force.

The other goddess, of course, is the heavenly Venus, who has the duty of tending to the noblest love, which is only for men -- and only a few of them, at that. She subjects none of her followers to torment or shameful lures; in fact, her love is not fun and frolicsome. No, it's serious stuff, and the beauty of its dignity sends her lovers to virtue. And if she ever commends attractive bodies, she scares them away from disgrace. And they shouldn't take pleasure in the body's form, except in that it calls to mind the memory of her beauty, which they saw earlier, pure and true, among the gods.

On this account Afranius wrote with his customary elegance: "The wise will love, all others will desire." Nevertheless, if you would have the truth, Aemilianus (if you can possibly understand such things), the wise man does not love as much as he remembers.

[13] Then grant some indulgence to the philosopher Plato for his love poems, so that I won't be violating the sentiment of Neoptolemus in Ennianus by philosophizing too much. Because if you don't do this, I'll willingly open myself up to being criticized for writing verses of this kind along with Plato.

But as for you, Maximus, I'm grateful to you for listening so attentively. These digressions in my speech are necessary because they respond to the accusation. And so, I beg that you'll still listen to me willingly and diligently, as you've done until now, while I discuss what's left of these charges.