But if you have a fear of unpopularity, is that arising from the imputation
of vigour and boldness, or that arising from that of inactivity and indecision most to be
feared? When Italy is laid waste by war, when cities
are attacked and houses in flames, do you not think that you will be then consumed by a perfect
conflagration of hatred?”
To this holy address of the republic, and to the feelings of those men who entertain the same
opinion, I will make this short answer:—If, O conscript fathers, I thought it best that
Catiline should be punished with death, I would not have given the space of one hour to this
gladiator to live in. If, forsooth, those excellent men and most illustrious cities not only
did not pollute themselves, but even glorified themselves by the blood of Saturninus, and the
Gracchi, and Flaccus, and many others of old time, surely I had no cause to fear lest for
slaying this parricidal murderer of the citizens any unpopularity should accrue to me with
posterity. And if it did threaten me to ever so great a degree, yet I have always been of the
disposition to think unpopularity earned by virtue and glory, not unpopularity.
Though there are some men in this body who either do not see what threatens, or dissemble
what they do see; who have fed the hope of Catiline by mild sentiments, and have strengthened
the rising conspiracy by not believing it; influenced by whose authority many, and they not
wicked, but only ignorant, if I punished him would say that I had acted cruelly and
tyranically. But I know that if he arrives at the camp of Manlius to which he is going, there
will be no one so stupid as not to see that there has been a conspiracy; no one so hardened as
not to confess it. But if this man alone were put to death, I know that this disease of the
republic would be only checked for awhile, not eradicated for ever. But if he banishes himself;
and takes with him all his friends, and collects at one point all the ruined men from every
quarter, then not only will this full-grown plague of the republic be extinguished and
eradicated, but also the root and seed of all future evils
We have now for a long time, O conscript fathers, lived among these dangers and machinations
of conspiracy; but somehow or other, the ripeness of all wickedness, and of this long-standing
madness and audacity, has come to a head at the time of my consulship. But if this man alone is
removed from this piratical crew, we may appear, perhaps, for a short time relieved from fear
and anxiety, but the danger will settle down and lie hid in the veins and bowels of the
republic. As it often happens that men afflicted with a severe disease, when they are tortured
with heat and fever, if they drink cold water, seem at first to be relieved, but afterwards
stiffer more and more severely; so this disease which is in the republic, if relieved by the
punishment of this man, will only get worse and worse, as the rest will be still alive.
Wherefore, O conscript fathers, let the worthless be gone,—let them separate themselves from
the good,—let them collect in one place,—let them, as I have often said before, be separated
from us by a wall; let them cease to plot against the consul in his own house,—to surround the
tribunal of the city praetor,—to besiege the senate-house with swords,—to prepare brands and
torches to burn the city; let it, in short, be written on the brow of every citizen, what are
his sentiments about the republic. I promise you this, O conscript fathers, that there shall be
so much diligence in us the consuls, much authority in you, so much virtue in the Roman
knights, so much unanimity in all good men, that you shall see everything made plain and
manifest by the departure of Catiline,—everything checked and punished.
With these omens, O Catiline, be gone to your impious and nefarious war, to the great safety
of the republic, to your own misfortune and injury, and to the destruction of those who have
joined themselves to you in every wickedness and atrocity. Then do you, O Jupiter, who were
consecrated by Romulus with the same auspices as this city, whom we rightly call the stay of
this city and empire, repel this man and his companions from your altars and from the other
temples,—from the houses and walls of the city,—from the lives and fortunes of all the
citizens; and overwhelm all the enemies of good men, the foes of the republic, the robbers of
Italy, men bound together by a treaty and infamous alliance of crimes, dead and alive, with
eternal punishments.
THE SECOND ORATION OF M. T. CICERO AGAINST LUCIUS CATILINA. ADDRESSED TO THE PEOPLE.
THE ARGUMENT.
Catiline did not venture to make any reply to the former speech, but he begged the senate
not to be too hasty in believing everything which was said to his prejudice by one who had
always been his enemy, as Cicero had; and alleged his high birth, and the stake which he had
in the prosperity of the commonwealth, as arguments to make it appear improbable that he
should seek to injure it; and called Cicero a stranger, and a new inhabitant of Rome. But the senate interrupted him with a general outcry,
calling him traitor and parricide. Upon which, being rendered furious and desperate, he
declared aloud what he had before said to Cato, that since he was circumvented and driven
headlong by his enemies, he would quench the flame which his enemies were kindling around him
in the common ruin. And so he rushed out of the temple. On his arrival at his own house he
held a brief conference with the other conspirators, in which it was resolved that he should
go at once to the camp of Manlius, and return as speedily as he could at the head of the army
which was there awaiting him. Accordingly, that night he left Rome with a small retinue, and made the best of his way towards Etruria. His
friends gave out that he had gone into voluntary banishment at Marseilles; and spread that report through the city the next morning, in order
to excite odium against Cicero, as having driven him out without any trial or proof of his
guilt. But Cicero was aware of his motions, and knew that he had previously sent a quantity of
arms, and military ensigns, and especially a silver eagle which he had been used to keep in
his own house with a superstitious reverence, because it had been used by the great Marius in
his expedition against the Cimbri. However, he thought it desirable to counteract the story of
his having gone into exile, and therefore summoned the people into the forum, and made them
the following speech.
At length, O Romans, we have dismissed from the city, or driven out, or, when he was
departing of his own accord, we have pursued with words, Lucius Catiline, mad with audacity,
breathing wickedness, impiously planning mischief to his country, threatening fire and sword to
you and to this city. He is gone, he has departed, he has disappeared, he has rushed out. No
injury will now be prepared against these walls within the walls themselves by that monster and
prodigy of wickedness. And we have, without controversy, defeated him, the sole general of this
domestic war. For now that dagger will no longer hover about our sides; we shall not be afraid
in the campus, in the forum, in the senate-house,—yes, and within our own private walls, he was
moved from his place when he was driven from the city. Now we shall openly carry on a regular
war with an enemy without hindrance. Beyond all question we ruin the man; we have defeated him
splendidly when we have driven him from secret treachery into open warfare.
But that he has not taken with him his sword red with blood as he
intruded—that he has left us alive,—that we wrested the weapon from his hands,—that he has left
the citizens safe and the city standing, what great and overwhelming grief must you think that
this is to him. Now he lies prostrate, O Romans, and feels himself stricken down and abject,
and often casts back his eyes towards this city, which he mourns over as snatched from his
jaws, but which seems to me to rejoice at having vomited forth such a pest, and cast it out of
doors.
But if there be any one of that disposition which all men should have, who yet blames me
greatly for the very thing in which my speech exults and triumphs,—namely, that I did not
arrest so capital mortal an enemy rather than let him go,—that is not my fault, O citizens, but
the fault of the times. Lucius Catiline ought to have been visited with the severest
punishment, and to have been put to death long since; and both the customs of our ancestors,
and the rigour of my office, and the republic, demanded this of me; but how many, think you,
were there who did not believe what I reported? how many who out of stupidity did not think so?
how many who even defended him,—how many who, out of their own depravity, favoured him? If, in
truth, I had thought that, if he were removed, all danger would he removed from you, I would
long since have cut off Lucius Catiline, had it been at the risk, not only of my popularity,
but even of my life.
But as I saw that, since the matter was not even then
proved to all of you, if I had punished him with death, as he had deserved, I should be borne
down by unpopularity, and so be unable to follow up his accomplices, I brought the business on
to this point that you might be able to combat openly when you saw the enemy without disguise.
But how exceedingly I think this enemy to be feared now that he is out of doors, you may see
from this—that I am vexed even that be has gone from the city with but a small retinue. I wish
he had taken with him all his forces. He has taken with him Tongillus, with whom he had been
said to have a criminal intimacy, and Publicius, and Munatius, whose debts contracted in
taverns could cause no great disquietude to the republic. He has left behind him others—you all
know what men they are, how overwhelmed with debt, how powerful, how noble.