The Conspiracy of Catiline

Do not suppose that our ancestors made the republic great from a small one by arms. If that were so, we should possess it in by far its most beautiful state; for we have a greater abundance of allies and citizens, and besides of arms and horses, than they had. But there were other things that made them great, which we do not have at all: industry at home, a just rule abroad, a mind free in deliberation, subservient neither to crime nor to passion. In place of these, we have luxury and avarice, public poverty, private wealth. We praise riches, we pursue idleness. No distinction is made between the good and the bad; ambition possesses all the rewards of virtue. Nor is it any wonder: when each of you takes counsel separately for himself, when at home you serve your pleasures, and here money or favor, the result is that an assault is made upon a defenseless republic. But I pass over these things. Most noble citizens have conspired to set fire to their country, they summon the Gallic nation, most hostile to the Roman name, to war, the leader of the enemies with his army is over our heads; do you hesitate even now and doubt what you should do with enemies caught within the walls? I suppose you should show mercy—young men have erred through ambition—and even dismiss them armed: take care lest that clemency and compassion of yours, if they take up arms, turn into misery for you. To be sure, the situation itself is harsh, but you do not fear it. Nay, indeed, you fear it exceedingly. But from inertia and softness of mind, waiting for one another, you hesitate, evidently relying on the immortal gods, who have often saved this republic in the greatest dangers. Not by vows nor by womanly supplications is the help of the gods secured; by watching, by acting, by consulting well, all things turn out prosperously. When you have surrendered yourself to sloth and laziness, you would implore the gods in vain: they are angry and hostile. In the time of our ancestors, Aulus Manlius Torquatus, in the Gallic war, ordered his own son to be put to death, because he had fought against the enemy contrary to orders, and that distinguished youth paid the penalty by death for his immoderate courage; do you hesitate about what to decide concerning the most cruel parricides? Evidently, the rest of their lives stands against this crime. Indeed, spare the dignity of Lentulus, if he himself ever spared his chastity, his reputation, or any gods or men. Forgive the youth of Cethegus, unless this is not the second time he has made war on his country. For why should I speak of Gabinius, Statilius, Caeparius? To whom if anything had ever been of any concern, they would not have had such designs against the republic. Finally, conscript fathers, if by Hercules there were room for error, I would easily allow you to be corrected by the event itself, since you despise words. But we are surrounded on all sides. Catiline with his army presses upon our throat; other enemies are within the walls and in the very heart of the city; nothing can be prepared or deliberated in secret: wherefore we must make the greater haste. Therefore, I vote thus: since by the nefarious design of criminal citizens the republic has come into the greatest dangers, and they have been convicted and have confessed by the evidence of Titus Volturcius and the envoys of the Allobroges that they prepared slaughter, arson, and other foul and cruel deeds against their fellow citizens and country, punishment must be inflicted, according to the custom of our ancestors, upon those who have confessed, just as upon those caught in the act of capital crimes.”