Ben Jonson - Catiline His Conspiracy Act 5. Scene 1 lyrics

Petreius. [The Army. IT is my Fortune and my Glory, Soldiers, This day, to lead you on; the worthy Consul Kept from the honour of it by Disease: And I am proud to have so brave a Cause To exercise your Arms in. We not now Fight for how long, how broad, how great, and large Th' extent, and bounds o' th' People of Rome shall be; But to retain what our great Ancestors, With all their Labours, Counsels, Arts, and Actions, For us, were purchasing so many years. The quarrel is not now of Fame or Tribute, Or of wrongs done unto Confederates, For which the Army of the People of Rome Was wont to move: but for your own Republick, For the rais'd Temples of th' immortal Gods, For all your Fortunes, Altars, and your Fires, For the dear Souls of your lov'd Wives and Children, Your Parents Tombs, your Rites, Laws, Liberty, And briefly, for the safety of the World: Against such Men, as only by their Crimes Are known; thrust out by Riot, Want, or Rashness. One sort, Sylla's old Troops, left here in Fesulæ, Who suddenly made rich in those dire Times, Are since, by their unbounded vast expence, Grown needy and poor; and have but left t' expect From Catiline new Bills, and new Proscriptions. These Men (they say) are Valiant; yet, I think 'em Not worth your pause: For either their old Vertue Is in their Sloth and Pleasures lost; or, if It tarry with 'em, so ill match for yours, As they are short in Number or in Cause. The second sort are of those (City-beasts, Rather than Citizens) who whilst they reach After our Fortunes, have let fly their own; These whelm'd in Wine, swell'd up with Meats, and weakned With hourly who*edoms, never left the side Of Catiline in Rome; nor here are loos'd From his Embraces: such as (trust me) never In riding or in using well their Arms, VVatching, or other Military Labour, Did exercise their Youth; but learn'd to Love, Drink, Dance, and Sing, make Feasts, and be fine Gamsters: And these will wish more hurt to you than they bring you. The rest are a mixt kind, all sorts of Furies, Adulterers, Dicers, Fencers, Out-laws, Thieves, The Murderers of their Parents, all the Sink And Plague of Italy met in one Torrent, To take, to day, from us the Punishment, Due to their mischiefs, for so many years. And who in such a Cause, 'gainst such Fiends, VVould not now wish himself all Arm and VVeapon? To cut such Poysons from the Earth, and let Their Blood out to be drawn away in Clouds, And pour'd on some inhabitable Place, Where the hot Sun and Slime breeds nought but Monsters? Chiefly when this sure joy shall crown our side, That the least Man that falls upon our Party This day (as some must give their happy Names To Fate, and that eternal Memory Of the best d**h, writ with it, for their Countrey) Shall walk at pleasure in the Tents of rest; And see far off, beneath him, all their Host Tormented after Life: and Catiline there Walking a wretched and less Ghost than he. I'll urge no more: Move forward with your Eagles, And trust the Senates and Romes Cause to Heaven. Arm. To thee, great Father Mars, and greater Jove. Cæsar, Cra**us. I Ever look'd for this of Lentulus, When Catiline was gone. Cra. I gave 'em lost, Many days since. Cæs. But, wherefore did you bear Their Letter to the Consul, that they sent you To warn you from the City? Cra. Did I know Whether he made it? It might come from him, For ought I could a**ure me: if they meant I should be safe among so many, they might have come as well as writ. Cæs. There is no loss In being secure. I have of late too ply'd him Thick with Intelligences, but they have been Of things he knew before. Cra. A little serves To keep a Man upright on these State-bridges, Although the Pa**age were more dangerous. Let us now take the standing part. Cæs. We must, And be as zealous for't, as Cato. Yet, I would fain help these wretched Men. Cra. You cannot. Who would save them, that have betrayd themselves? Cicero, Quintus, Cato. I will not be wrought to it, Brother Quintus. There's no Mans private enmity shall make Me violate the Dignity of another. If there were Proof 'gainst Cæsar, or who ever, To speak him guilty, I would so declare him. But Quintus Catulus, and Piso both Shall know, the Consul will not, for their grudge, Have any Man accus'd or named falsly. Qui. Not falsly: but if any Circumstance, By the Allobroges, or from Volturtius, Would carry it. Cic. That shall not be sought by me. If it reveal it self, I would not spare You, Brother, if it pointed at you, trust me. Cato. Good Marcus Tullius (which is more than great) Thou hadst thy Education with the Gods. Cic. Send Lentulus forth, and bring away the rest. This Office I am sorry, Sir, to do you. The Senate. WHat may be happy still and fortunate, To Rome, and to this Senate: Please you, Fathers, To break these Letters, and to view them round. If that be not found in them, which I fear, I yet intreat at such a time as this, My diligence be not contemn'd. Ha' you brought The Weapons hither from Cethegus House? Præ. They are without. Cic. Be ready with Volturtius, To bring him when the Senate calls; and see None of the rest confer together. Fathers, What do you read? Is it yet worth your care, If not your fear, what you find practis'd there? Cæs. It hath a Face of horror! Cra. I am amaz'd! Cato. Loook there. Syl. Gods! Can such Men draw common Air? Cic. Although the greatness of the mischief, Fathers, Hath often made my Faith small in this Senate, Yet since my casting Catiline out (for now I do not fear the envy of the Word, Unless the Deed be rather to be fear'd, That he went hence alive; when those I meant Should follow him, did not) I have spent both days And nights in watching what their fury and rage Was bent on, that so staid against my thought: And that I might but take 'em in that light, Where when you met their Treason with your Eyes, Your minds at length would think for your own safety. And now 'tis done. There are their Hands and Seals. Their Persons too are safe, thanks to the Gods. Bring in Volturtius and the Allobroges. These be the Men were trusted with their Letters. Vol. Fathers, believe me, I knew nothing: I Was travelling for Gallia, and am sorry —— Cic. Quake not Volturtius, speak the truth, and hope Well of this Senate, on the Consuls word. Vol. Then I knew all. But truly I was drawn in But t'other day. Cæs. Say what thou know'st, and fear not. Thou hast the Senates, Faith and Consuls word [He answers with fear and interruptions. To fortifie thee. Vol. I was sent with Letters — And had a Message too — from Lentulus — To Catiline — that he should use all Aids — Servants, or others — and come with his Army, As soon unto the City as he could — For they were ready, and but staid for him — To intercept those that should flee the Fire — These Men (the Allobroges) did hear it too. All. Yes, Fathers, and they took an Oath to us, Besides their Letters, that we should be free; And urg'd us for some present aid of Horse. Cic. Nay, here be other Testimonies, Fathers, [The Weapons and Arms are brought forth. Cethegus Armoury. Cra. What, not all these? Cic. Here's not the hundred Part. Call in the Fencer, That we may know the Arms to all these Weapons. Come my brave Sword-player, to what active use Was all this Steel provided? Cet. Had you ask'd In Sylla's days, it had been to cut Throats; But now it was to look on only: I lov'd To see good Blades, and feel their Edge, and Points, To put a Helm upon a Block, and cleave it, And now and then to stab an Armour through. Cic. Know you that Paper? That will stab you through. Is it your hand? Hold, save the pieces. Traytor, Hath thy guilt wak'd thy Fury? Cet. I did write I know not what; nor care not: That Fool Lentulus Did dictate, and I t'other Fool did sign it. Cic. Bring in Statilius: Does he know his hand too? And Lentulus. Reach him that Letter. Sta. I Confess it all. Cic. Know you that seal yet, Publius? Len. Yes, it is mine. Cic. Whose Image is that on it? Len. My Grand-fathers. Cic. What, that renown'd good Man, That did so only embrace his Countrey, and lov'd His fellow Citizens! Was not his Picture, Though mute, of Power to call thee from a Fact So foul — Len. As what, impetuous Cicero? Cic. As thou art, for I do not know what's fouler. Look upon these. Do not these Faces argue Thy guilt and impudence? Len. What are these to me? I know 'em not. All. No, Publius? we were with you At Brutus House. Vol. Last night. Len. What did you there? Who sent for you? All. Your self did. We had Letters From you, Cethegus, this Statilius here, Gabinius Cimber, all but from Longinus, Who would not write, because he was to come Shortly in Person after us (he said) To take the charge o' the Horse, which we should levy. Cic. And he is fled to Catiline I hear. Len. Spies? Spies? All. You told us too o' the Sybils Books, And how you were to be a King this year, The Twentieth from the burning of the Capitol, That three Cornellii were to Raign in Rome, Of which you were the last: and prais'd Cethegus, And the great Spirits were with you in the Action. Cet. These are your honourable Amba**adors, My Soveraign Lord. Cat. Peace, that too bold Cethegus. All. Besides Gabinius, your Agent nam'd Autronius, Servius Sylla, Vargunteius, And divers others. Vol. I had Letters from you To Catiline, and a Message, which I have told Unto the Senate truly word for word: For which I hope they will be gracious to me. I was drawn in by that same wicked Cimber, And thought no hurt at all. Cic. Volturtius, peace. Where is thy Visor or thy Voice now Lentulus? Art thou confounded? Wherefore speak'st thou not? Is all so clear, so plain, so manifest, That both thy Eloquence and Impudence, And thy ill Nature too, have left thee at once? Take him aside. There's yet one more, Gabinius, The Engineer of all. Shew him that Paper, If he do know it? Gab. I know nothing. Cic. No? Gab. No. Neither will I know. Cat. Impudent Head! Stick it into his Throat; were I the Consul, Il'd make thee eat the mischief thou hast vented. Gab. Is there a Law for't, Cato? Cat. Dost thou ask After a Law, that would'st have broke all Laws Of Nature, Manhood, Conscience, and Religion? Gab. Yes I may ask for't. Cat. No, pernicions Cimber. Th' inquiring after good does not belong Unto a wicked Person. Gab. I, but Cato Does nothing but by Law. Cra. Take him aside. There's Proof enough though he confess not. Gab. Stay, I will confess. All's true your Spies have told you, Make much of 'em. Cet. Yes, and reward 'em well, For fear you get no more such. See they do not Dye in a Ditch, and stink now you ha' done with 'em; Or beg o' the Bridges here in Rome, whose Arches Their active industry hath sav'd. Cic. See Fathers What Minds and Spirits these are, that being convicted Of such a Treason, and by such a Cloud Of Witnesses, dare yet retain their boldness? What would their Rage have done, if they had conquer'd? I thought when I had thrust out Catiline, Neither the State nor I should need t' have fear'd Lentulus sleep here, or Longinus fat, Or this Cethegus rashness; it was he I only watch'd, while he was in our Walls, As one that had the Brain, the Hand, the Heart. But now we find the contrary! Where was there A People griev'd, or a State discontent, Able to make or help a War 'gainst Rome, But these, th' Allobroges, and those they found? Whom had not the just Gods been pleas'd to make More Friends unto our safety than their own, As it then seem'd, neglecting these Mens offers, Where had we been? or where the Commonwealth? When their great Chief had been call'd home; this Man, Their absolute King (whose noble Grand-father, Arm'd in pursuit of the seditious Gracchus, Took a brave wound for dear defence of that Which he would spoil) had gather'd all his Aids Of Ruffians, Slaves, and other Slaughter-men? Given us up for murder to Cethegus? The other rank of Citizens to Gabinius? The City to be fir'd by Ca**ius? And Italy, nay the World, to be laid wast By cursed Catiline and his Complices? Lay but the thought of it before you Fathers, Think but with me you saw his glorious City, The Light of all the Earth, Tower of all Nations, Suddenly falling in one Flame. Imagine You view'd your Countrey buried with the heaps Of slaughter'd Citizens that had no Grave; This Lentulus here, raigning, (as he dreamt) And those his Purple Senate; Catiline come With his fierce Army; and the cries of Matrons, The flight of Children, and the rape of Virgins, Shriekes of the living, with the dying Groans On every side t' invade your Sense; until The Blood of Rome were mixed with her Ashes! This was the Spectacle these Fiends intended To please their Malice. Cet. I, and it would Have been a brave one, Consul. But your Part Had not then been so long as now it is: I should have quite defeated your Oration, And slit that fine rhetorical Pipe of yours I' the first Scene. Cat. Insolent Monster! Cic. Fathers, Is it your Pleasures they shall be committed Unto some safe, but a free Custody, Until the Senate can determine farther? Sen. It pleaseth well. Cic. Then Marcus Cra**us, Take you charge of Gabinius: send him home Unto your House. You Cæsar, of Statilius. Cethegus shall be sent to Cornificius: And Lentulus to Publius Lentulus Spinther, Who now is Ædile. Cat. It were best, the Prætors Carried 'em to their Houses, and deliver'd 'em. Cic. Let it be so. Take 'em from hence. Cæs. But first Let Lentulus put off his Prætorship. Len. I do resign it here unto the Senate. Cæs. So, now there's no Offence done to Religion. Cat. Cæsar, 'twas piously and timely urg'd. Cic. What do you decree to th' Allobroges, That were the Lights to this Discovery? Cra. A free Grant from the State, of all their Suits. Cæs. And a Reward out of the Publick Treasure. Cat. I, and the Title of Honest Men, to crown 'em. Cic. What to Volturtius? Cæs. Life, and Favour's well. Vol. I ask no more. Cat. Yes, yes, some Mony, thou needst it: 'Twill keep thee honest; want made thee a Knave. Syl. Let Flaccus, and Pomtinius, the Prætors, Have publick Thanks, and Quintus Fabius Sanga, For their good Service. Cra. They deserve it all. Cat. But what do we decree unto the Consul, Whose Vertue, Counsel, Watchfulness, and Wisdom Hath freed the Commonwealth, and without Tumult, Slaughter, or Blood, or scarce raising a Force, Rescu'd us all out of the Jaws of Fate? Cra. VVe owe our Lives unto him, and our Fortunes. Cæs. Our VVives, our Children, Parents, and our Gods. Syl. VVe all are saved by his Fortitude. Cat. The Commonwealth owes him a Civick Garland. He is the only Father of his Country. Cæs. Let there be Publick Prayer, to all the Gods, Made in that Name, for him. Cra. And in these words: For that he hath, by his Vigilance, preserv'd Rome from the Flame, the Senate from the Sword, And all her Citizens from Ma**acre. Cic. How are my Labours more than paid, grave Fathers, In these great Titles, and decreed Honours! Such as to me, first of the Civil Robe, Of any Man since Rome was Rome, have hapned; And from this frequent Senate; which more glads me, That I now see yo' have sense of your own safety. If those good days come no less grateful to us, Wherein we are preserv'd from some great Danger, Than those wherein w' are born, and brought to light, Because the gladness of our Safety is certain, But the condition of our Birth not so; And that w' are sav'd with pleasure, but are born Without the sense of Joy: Why should not then This Day, to us, and all Posterity Of ours, be had in equal Fame and Honour, With that when Romulus first rear'd these Walls, When so much more is saved, than he built? Cæs. It ought. Cra. Let it be added to our Fasti. Cic. What Tumult's that? Fla. Here's one Tarquinius taken, Going to Catiline, and says he was sent By Marcus Cra**us, whom he names to be Guilty of the Conspiracy. Cic. Some lying Varlet. Take him away to Prison. Cra. Bring him in, And let me see him. Cic. He is not worth it, Cra**us. Keep him up close, and hungry, till he tell By whose pernicious Counsel he durst slander So great and good a Citizen. (Cra. By yours, I fear, 'twill prove.) Syl. Some o' the Traitors, sure, To give their Action the more Credit, bid him Name you, or any Man. Cic. I know my self, By all the Tracts and Courses of this Business, Cra**us is noble, just, and loves his Country. Fla. Here is a Libel too, accusing Cæsar, From Lucius Vectius, and confirm'd by Curius. Cic. Away with all, throw it out o' the Court. Cæs. A Trick on me too? Cic. It is some mens malice. I said to Curius, I did not believe him. Cæs. Was not that Curius your Spy, that had Reward decreed unto him the last Senate, With Fulvia, upon your private Motion? Cic. Yes. Cæs. But he has not that Reward yet? Cic. No. Let not this trouble you, Cæsar; none believes it. Cæs. It shall not, if that he have no Reward. But if he have, sure I shall think my self Very untimely and unsafely honest, Where such as he is may have Pay t' accuse me. Cic. You shall have no wrong done you, noble Cæsar, But all Contentment. Cæs. Consul, I am silent. [The Army. I Never yet knew, Soldiers, that in Fight Words added Vertue unto valiant Men; Or, that a General's Oration made An Army fall or stand: But how much Prowess, Habitual or natural, each Mans Breast Was Owner of, so much in act it shew'd. Whom neither Glory' or Danger can excite, 'Tis vain t' attempt with Speech; for the Minds fear Keeps all brave Sounds from entring at that Ear. I yet would warn you some few things, my Friends, And give you Reason of my present Counsels. You know, no less than I, what State, what Point Our Affairs stand in; and you all have heard What a calamitous Misery the Sloth And Sleepiness of Lentulus hath pluck'd Both on himself, and us; how, whilst our Aids There, in the City look'd for, are defeated; Our entrance into Gallia too is stopt: Two Armies wait us; one from Rome, the other From the Gaul-Provinces: And where we are, (Although I most desire it) the great want Of Corn and Victuals forbids longer stay. So that of need we must remove; but whither, The Sword must both direct, and cut the Pa**age. I only therefore wish you, when you strike, To have your Valours and your Souls about you, And think you carry in your labouring Hands The things you seek, Glory, and Liberty, Your Country, which you want now, with the Fates, That are to be instructed by our Swords. If we can give the Blow, all will be safe to us. We shall not want Provision, nor Supplies. The Colonies and Free Towns will lie open; Where, if we yield to fear, expect no Place, Nor Friend, to shelter those whom their own Fortune, And ill-us'd Arms have left without Protection. You might have liv'd in Servitude, or Exile, Or safe at Rome, depending on the Great ones; But that you thought those things unfit for Men: And, in that thought, you then were valiant. For no Man ever yet chang'd Peace for War, But he that meant to conquer. Hold that purpose. There's more necessity you should be such, In fighting for your selves, than they for others. He's base that trusts his Feet, whose Hands are arm'd. Me thinks I see d**h and the Furies waiting What we will do, and all the Heav'n at leisure For the great Spectacle. Draw then your Swords; And if our Destiny envy our Vertue The Honour of the Day, yet let us care To sell our selves at such a Price as may Undo the World to buy us, and make Fate, While she tempts ours, fear her own Estate. The Senate. SEn. What means this hasty calling of the Senate? Sen. We shall know streight. Wait till the Consul speaks. Pom. Fathers Conscript, bethink you of your Safeties, And what to do with these Conspirators: Some of their Clients, their Freed-men, and Slaves, 'Gin to make Head: There is one of Lentulus Bawds Runs up and down the Shops, through every Street, With Money, to corrupt the poor Artificers, And needy Tradesmen, to their aid. Cethegus Hath sent too to his Servants, who are many, Chosen, and exercis'd in bold Attemptings, That forthwith they should arm themselves, and prove His Rescue: All will be in instant Uproar, If you prevent it not with present Counsels. We have done what we can to meet the Fury, And will do more. Be you good to your selves. Cic. What is your pleasure, Fathers, shall be done? Syllan*s, you are Consul next design'd; Your Sentence of these Men. Syl. 'Tis short, and this. Since they have sought to blot the name of Rome Out of the World, and raze this glorious Empire With her own Hands, and Arms turn'd on her self, I think it fit they die: And could my Breath Now execute 'em, they should not enjoy An Article of Time, or Eye of Light, Longer, to poyson this our Common air. Sen. I think so too. Sen. And I. Sen. And I. Sen. And I. Cic. Your Sentence, Caius Cæsar. Cæs. Conscript Fathers, In great Affairs, and doubtful, it behoves Men that are ask'd their Sentence, to be free From either Hate or Love, Anger or Pity: For where the least of these do hinder, there The Mind not easily discerns the Truth. I speak this to you in the Name of Rome, For whom you stand; and to the present Cause: That this foul Fact of Lentulus, and the rest, Weigh not more with you than your Dignity; And you be more indulgent to your Pa**ion, Than to your Honour. If there could be found A Pain or Punishment equal to their Crimes, I would devise, and help: But if the greatness Of what they ha' done, exceed all Mans Invention, I think it fit to stay where our Laws do. Poor petty States may alter, upon humour, Where, if th' offend with anger, few do know it, Because they are obscure; their Fame and Fortune Is equal, and the same. But they that are Head of the World, and live in that seen height, All Mankind knows their Actions. So we see, The greater Fortune hath the lesser Licence. They must not favour, hate, and least be angry: For what with others is call'd Anger, there Is Cruelty and Pride. I know Syllan*s, Who spoke before me, a just, valiant Man, A Lover of the State, and one that would not, In such a Business, use or Grace or Hatred; I know too, well, his Manners and Modesty: Nor do I think his Sentence cruel, (for 'Gainst such Delinquents what can be too bloody?) But that it is abhorring from our State: Since to a Citizen of Rome, offending, Our Laws give Exile, and not d**h. Why then Decrees he that? 'Twere vain to think, for fear; When, by the diligence of so worthy a Consul, All is made safe and certain. Is't for Punishment? Why, d**h's the end of Evils, and a Rest, Rather than Torment: It dissolves all Griefs; And beyond that, is neither Care nor Joy. You hear, my Sentence would not have 'em die. How then? set free, and increase Catiline's Army? So will they, being but banish'd. No, Grave Fathers, I judge 'em, first, to have their States confiscate; Then, that their Persons remain Prisoners I' the Free Towns, far off from Rome, and sever'd; Where they might neither have Relation, Hereafter, to the Senate, or the People. Or, if they had, those Towns then to be mulcted, As Enemies to the State, that had their Guard. Sen. 'Tis good and honourable, Cæsar hath utter'd. Cic. Fathers, I see your Faces and your Eyes All bent on me, to note, of these two Censures, Which I incline to. Either of them are grave, And answering the Dignity of the Speakers, The greatness of th' Affair, and both severe. One urgeth d**h; and he may well remember This State hath punish'd wicked Citizens so. The other Bonds, and those perpetual, which He thinks found out for the more singular Plague. Decree which you shall please: You have a Consul, Not readier to obey, than to defend Whatever you shall act, for the Republick; And meet with willing Shoulders any Burden, Or any Fortune, with an even Face, Though it were d**h; which to a valiant Man Can never happen foul, nor to a Consul Be immature, or to a wise man wretched. Syl. Fathers, I spake but as I thought the Needs O' th' Commonwealth requir'd. Cat. Excuse it not. Cic. Cato, speak your Sentence. Cat. This it is. You here dispute on kinds of Punishment, And stand consulting what you should decree 'Gainst those of whom you rather should beware: This Mischief is not like those common Facts, Which, when they are done, the Laws may prosecute. But this, if you provide not ere it happen, When it is hap'ned, will not wait your Judgment. Good Caius Cæsar here hath very well, And subtilly discours'd of Life and d**h, As if he thought those things a pretty Fable, That are deliver'd us of Hell and Furies, Or of the divers way that ill Men go From good, to filthy, dark, and ugly Places. And therefore he would have these live, and long too; But far from Rome, and in the small Free Towns, Lest here they might have Rescue: As if Men Fit for such Acts were only in the City, And not throughout all Italy; or, that Boldness Could not do more, where it found least resistance? 'Tis a vain Counsel, if he think them dangerous: Which if he do not, but that he alone, In so great fear of all Men, stand unfrighted, He gives me cause, and you, more to fear him. I am plain, Fathers. Here you look about One at another, doubting what to do; With Faces, as you trusted to the Gods, That still have sav'd you; and they can do't: But They are not Wishings, or base womanish Prayers, Can draw their Aids; but Vigilance, Counsel, Action; Which they will be ashamed to forsake. 'Tis Sloth they hate, and Cowardise. Here you have The Traitors in your Houses; yet you stand, Fearing what to do with 'em: Let 'em loose, And send 'em hence with Arms too, that your Mercy May turn your Misery, as soon as't can. O, but they are Great Men, and have offended But through Ambition: We would spare their Honour. I, if themselves had spar'd it, or their Fame, Or Modesty, or either God, or Man: Then I would spare 'em. But as things now stand, Fathers, to spare these Men, were to commit A greater Wickedness than you would revenge. If there had been but time and Place for you To have repair'd this Fault, you should have made it; It should have been your Punishment, to have felt Your tardy Error: but Necessity Now bids me say, Let 'em not live an Hour, If you mean Rome should live a Day. I have done. Sen. Cato hath spoken like an Oracle. Cra. Let it be so decreed. Sen. We are all fearful. Syl. And had been base, had not his Vertue rais'd us. Sen. Go forth, most worthy Consul. we'll a**ist you. Cæs. I am not yet chang'd in my Sentence, Fathers. Cat. No matter. What be those? Sen. Letters for Cæsar. Cat. From Cat. From whom? Let 'em be read in open Senate. Fathers, they come from the Conspirators; I crave to have 'em read, for the Republick. Cæs. Cato, read you it. 'Tis a Love-letter, From your dear Sister, to me: though you hate me, Do not discover it. Cat. Hold thee, Drunkard. Consul, Go forth, and confidently. Cæs. You'll repent This rashness, Cicero. Præ. Cæsar shall repent it. Cic. Hold, Friends. Præ. He's scarce a Friend unto the Publick. Cic. No violence. Cæsar, be safe. Lead on. Where are the Publick Executioners? Bid 'em wait on us. On to Spinther's House. Bring Lentulus forth. Here, you, the sad Revengers Of Capital Crimes against the Publick, take This Man unto your Justice; strangle him. Len. Thou dost well, Consul. 'Twas a Cast at Dice, In Fortune's Hand, not long since, that thy self Should'st have heard these, or other words as fatal. Cic. Lead on to Quintus Cornificius House. Bring forth Cethegus. Take him to the due d**h that he hath deserv'd, and let it be Said, he was once. Cet. A Beast, or, what is worse, A Slave, Cethegus. Let that be the Name For all that's base, hereafter; that would let This Worm pronounce on him, and not have trampled His Body into — Ha! art thou not mov'd? Cic. Justice is never angty. Take him hence. Cet. O, the who*e Fortune, and her Bawds the Fates! That put these Tricks on Men, whick knew the way To d**h by' a Sword. Strangle me, I may sleep; I shall grow angry with the Gods else. Cic. Lead To Caius Cæsar, for Statilius. Bring him, and rude Gabinius out. Here, take 'em To your cold Hands, and let 'em feel d**h from you. Gab. I thank you, you do me a pleasure. Sta. And me too. Cat. So, Marcus Tullius, thou maist now stand up, And call it happy Rome, thou being Consul. Great Parent of thy Country, go, and let The old Men of the City, ere they die, Kiss thee; the Matrons dwell about thy Neck; The Youths and Maids lay up, 'gainst they are old, What kind of Man thou wert, to tell their Nephews, When, such a Year, they read, within our Fasti, Thy Consulship. Who's this? Petreius? Cic. Welcome, Welcome, renowned Soldier. VVhat's the News? This Face can bring no ill with't unto Rome. How does the worthy Consul, my Colleague? Pet. As well as Victory can make him, Sir. He greets the Fathers, and to me hath trusted The sad Relation of the Civil Strife; For, in such VVar, the Conquest still is black. Cic. Shall we withdraw into the House of Concord? Cat. No, happy Consul: Here let all Ears take The Benefit of this Tale. If he had Voice To spread unto the Poles, and strike it through The Center, to th' Antipodes, it would ask it. Pet. The Straits and Needs of Catiline being such, As he must fight with one of the two Armies, That then had neer enclos'd him; it pleas'd Fate To make us th' Object of his desperate Choice, VVherein the Danger almost poiz'd the Honour: And as he riss', the Day grew black with him, And Fate descended nearer to the Earth, As if she meant to hide the name of things Under her VVings, and make the VVorld her Quarry. At this we rous'd, lest one small Minutes stay Had left it to be inquir'd, what Rome was: And (as we ought) arm'd in the confidence Of our great Cause, in form of Battel stood: VVhilst Catiline came on, not with the Face Of any Man, but of a Publick Ruin: His Count'nance was a Civil VVar it self; And all his Host had standing in their Looks The Paleness of the d**h that was to come. Yet cried they out like Vultures, and urg'd on, As if they would precipitate our Fates. Nor staid we longer for 'em: But himself Struck the first Stroke; and with it fled a Life, Which cut, it seem'd a narrow Neck of Land Had broke between two mighty Seas, and either Flow'd into other; for so did the Slaughter: Aud whirl'd about, as when two violent Tides Meet, and not yield. The Furies stood on Hills, Circling the Place, and trembled to see Men Do more than thcy; whilst Piety left the Field, Griev'd for that Side, that in so bad a Cause They knew not what a Crime their Valour was. The Sun stood still, and was, behind the Cloud The Battel made, seen sweating, to drive up His frighted Horse, whom still the Noise drove backward. And now had fierce Enyo, like a Flame, Consum'd all it could reach, and then it self; Had not the Fortune of the Commonwealth Come, Pallas-like, to every Roman thought. Which Catiline seeing, and that now his Troops Cover'd that Earth they had fought on, with their Trunks, Ambitious of great Fame, to crown his Ill, Collected all his Fury, and ran in (Arm'd with a Glory high as his Despair) Into our Battel, like a Lybian Lion Upon his Hunters, scornful of our Weapons, Careless of Wounds, plucking down Lives about him, Till he had circled in himself with d**h: Then fell he too, t' embrace it where it lay. And as in that Rebellion 'gainst the Gods, Minerva holding forth Medusa's Head, One of the Gyant-Brethren felt himself Grow Marble at the k**ing Sight, and now Almost made Stone, began t' inquire, what Flint, What Rock it was, that crept through all his Limbs, And, ere he could think more, was that he fear'd; So Catiline, at the sight of Rome in us, Became his Tomb: Yet did his Look retain Some of his Fierceness, and his Hands still mov'd, As if he labour'd yet to grasp the State With those Rebellious Parts. Cat. A brave bad d**h! Had this been honest now, and for his Country, As 'twas against it, who had ere fallen greater? Cic. Honour'd Petreius, Rome, not I, must thank you. How modestly has he spoken of himself! Cat. He did the more. Cic. Thanks to the immortal Gods, Romans, I now am paid for all my Labours, My VVatchings, and my Dangers. Here conclude Your Praises, Triumphs, Honours, and Rewards, Decreed to me: Only the Memory Of this glad Day, if I may know it live VVithin your Thoughts, shall much affect my Conscience, VVhich I must always study before Fame. Though both be good, the latter yet is worst, And ever is ill got, without the first. T H E E N D.