O happy republic, if it can cast
forth these dregs of the republic! Even now, when Catiline alone is got rid of; the republic
seems to me relieved and refreshed; for what evil or wickedness can be devised or imagined
which he did not conceive? What prisoner, what gladiator, what thief; what assassin, what
parricide, what forger of wills, what cheat, what debauchee, what spendthrift, what adulterer,
what abandoned woman, what corrupter of youth, what profligate, what scoundrel can be found in
all Italy, who does not avow that he has been on terms of intimacy with Catiline? What murder
has been committed for years without him? What nefarious act of infamy that has not been done
by him?
But in what other man were there ever so many allurements for youth as in him, who both
indulged in infamous love for others, and encouraged their infamous affections for himself,
promising to some enjoyment of their lust, to others the death of their parents, and not only
instigating them to iniquity, but even assisting them in it. But now, how suddenly had he
collected, not only out of the city, but even out of the country, a number of abandoned men? No
one, not only at Rome, but in every corner of
Italy, was overwhelmed with debt whom he did not
enlist in this incredible association of wickedness.
And, that you may understand the diversity of his pursuits and the variety of his designs,
there was no one in any school of gladiators, at all inclined to audacity, who does not avow
himself to be an intimate friend of Catiline,—no one on the stage, at all of a fickle and
worthless disposition, who does not profess himself his companion. And he, trained in the
practice of insult and wickedness, in enduring cold, and hunger, and thirst, and watching, was
called a brave man by those fellows, while all the appliances of industry and instruments of
virtue were devoted to lust and atrocity.
But if his companions follow him,—if the infamous herd of desperate men depart from the city,
O happy shall we be, fortunate will be the republic, illustrious will be the renown of my
consulship. For theirs is no ordinary insolence,—no common and endurable audacity. They think
of nothing but slaughter, conflagration, and rapine. They have dissipated their patrimonies,
they have squandered their fortunes. Money has long failed them, and now credit begins to fail;
but the same desires remain which they had in their time of abundance. But if in their drinking
and gambling parties they were content with feasts and harlots, they would be in a hopeless
state indeed; but yet they might be endured. But who can bear this,—that indolent men should
plot against the bravest,—drunkards against the sober,—men asleep against men awake,—men lying
at feasts, embracing abandoned women, languid with wine, crammed with food, crowned with
chaplets, reeking with ointments, worn out with lust, belch out in their discourse the murder
of all good men, and the conflagration of the city?
But I am confident that some fate is hanging over these men;
and that the punishment long since due to their iniquity, and worthlessness, and wickedness,
and lust, is either visibly at hand or at least rapidly approaching. And if my consulship shall
have removed, since it cannot cure them, it will have added, not some brief span, but many ages
of existence to the republic. For there is no nation for us to fear,—no king who can make war
on the Roman people. All foreign affairs are tranquilized, both by land and sea, by the valour
of one man. Domestic war alone remains. The only plots against us are within our own walls,—the
danger is within,—the enemy is within. We must war with luxury, with madness, with wickedness.
For this war, O citizens, I offer myself as the general. I take on myself the enmity of
profligate men. What can be cured, I will cure, by whatever means it may be possible. What must
be cut away, I will not suffer to spread, to the ruin of the republic. Let them depart, or let
them stay quiet; or if they remain in the city and in the same disposition as at present, let
them expect what they deserve.
But there are men, O Romans, who say that Catiline has been driven by me into banishment. But
if I could do so by a word, I would drive out those also who say so. Forsooth, that timid, that
excessively bashful man could not bear the voice of the consul; as soon as he was ordered to go
into banishment, he obeyed, he was quiet. Yesterday, when I had been all but murdered at my own
house, I convoked the senate in the temple of Jupiter Stator; I related the whole affair to the
conscript fathers; and when Catiline came thither, what senator addressed him? who saluted him?
who looked upon him not so much even as an abandoned citizen, as an implacable enemy? Nay the
chiefs of that body left that part of the benches to which he came naked and empty.
On this I, that violent consul, who drive citizens into
exile by a word, asked of Catiline whether he had been at the nocturnal meeting at Marcus
Lecca's, or not; when that most audacious man, convicted by his own conscience, was at first
silent. I related all the other circumstances; I described what he had done that night, where
he had been, what he had arranged for the next night, how the plan of the whole war had been
laid down by him. When he hesitated, when he was convicted, I asked why he hesitated to go
whither he had been long been preparing to go; when I knew that arms, that the axes, the
fasces, and trumpets, and military standards, and that silver
eagle to which he had made a shrine in his own house, had been sent on?
Did I drive him into exile who I knew had already entered upon war? I suppose
Manlius, that centurion who has pitched his camp in the Faesulan district, has proclaimed war
against the Roman people in his own name; and that camp is not now waiting for Catiline as its
general, and he, driven indeed into exile, will go to Marseilles, as they say, and not to that camp.
O the hard lot of those, not only of those who govern, but even of those who save the
republic. Now, if Lucius Catiline, hemmed in and rendered powerless by my counsels, by my
toils, by my dangers, should on a sudden become alarmed, should change his designs, should
desert his friends, should abandon his design of making war, should change his path from this
course of wickedness and war, and betake himself to flight and exile, he will not be said to
have been deprived by me of the arms of his audacity, to have been astounded and terrified by
my diligence, to have been driven from his hope and from his enterprise, but, uncondemned and
innocent, to have been driven into banishment by the consul by threats and violence; and there
will be some who will seek to have him thought not worthless but unfortunate, and be considered
not a most active consul, but a most cruel tyrant.
I am not
unwilling, O Romans, to endure this storm of false and unjust unpopularity as long as the
danger of this horrible and nefarious war is warded off from you. Let him be said to be
banished by me as long as he goes into banishment; but, believe me, he will not go. I will
never ask of the immortal gods, O Romans, for the sake of lightening my own unpopularity, for
you to hear that Lucius Catiline is leading an army of enemies, and is hovering about in arms;
but yet in three days you will hear it. And I much more fear that it will be objected to me
some day or other, that I have let him escape, rather than that I have banished him. But when
there are men who say he has been banished because he has gone away, what would these men say
if he had been put to death?
Although those men who keep saying that Catiline is going to Marseilles do not complain of this so much as they fear it; for there is not one
of them so inclined to pity, as not to prefer that he should go to Manlius rather than to
Marseilles. But he, if he had never before planned
what he is now doing, yet would rather be slain while living as a bandit, than live as an
exile; but now, when nothing has happened to him contrary to his own wish and design,—except,
indeed, that he has left Rome while we are alive,—let
us wish rather that he may go into exile than complain of it.
But why are we speaking so long about one enemy; and about that enemy who now avows that he
is one; and whom I now do not fear, because, as I have always wished, a wall is between us; and
are saying nothing about those who dissemble, who remain at Rome, who are among us? Whom, indeed, if it were by any means possible, I should
be anxious not so much to chastise as to cure, and to make friendly to the republic; nor, if
they will listen to me, do I quite know why that may not be. For I will tell you, O Romans, of
what classes of men those forces are made up, and then, if I can, I will apply to each the
medicine of my advice and persuasion.
There is one class of them, who, with enormous debts, have
still greater possessions, and who can by no means be detached from their affection to them. Of
these men the appearance is most respectable, for they are wealthy, but their intention and
their cause are most shameless. Will you be rich in lands, in houses, in money, in slaves, in
all things, and yet hesitate to diminish your possessions to add to your credit? What are you
expecting? War? What! in the devastation of all things, do you believe that your own
possessions will be held sacred? do you expect an abolition of debts? They are mistaken who
expect that from Catiline. There may be schedules made out, owing to my exertions, but they
will be only catalogues of sale. Nor can those who have possessions be safe by any other means;
and if they had been willing to adopt this plan earlier, and not, as is very foolish, to
struggle on against usury with the profits of their farms, we should have them now richer and
better citizens. But I think these men are the least of all to be dreaded, because they can
either be persuaded to abandon their opinions, or if they cling to them, they seem to me more
likely to form wishes against the republic than to bear arms against it.
There is another class of them, who, although they are harassed by debt, yet are expecting
supreme power; they wish to become masters. They think that when the republic is in confusion
they may gain those honours which they despair of when it is in tranquillity. And they must, I
think, be told the same as every one else,—to despair of obtaining what they are aiming at;
that in the first place, I myself am watchful for, am present to, am providing for the
republic. Besides that, there is a high spirit in the virtuous citizens, great unanimity, great
numbers, and also a great body of troops. Above all that, the immortal gods will stand by and
bring aid to this invincible nation, this most illustrious empire, this most beautiful city,
against such wicked violence. And if they had already got that which they with the greatest
madness wish for, do they think that in the ashes of the city and blood of the citizens, which
in their wicked and infamous hearts they desire, they will become consuls and dictators and
even kings? Do they not see that they are wishing for that which, if they were to obtain it,
must be given up to some fugitive slave, or to some gladiator?