The Holloway Pages: Ben Jonson: Works (1692 Folio): Catiline

Catiline.

237

C A T I L I N E

HIS

C O N S P I R A C Y.

A T R A G E D Y.

Acted in the Year 1611. By the K I N G S M A J E S T Y' S Servants.

With the Allowance of the Master of R E V E L S.

The Author B. J.

                    ----------His non plebecula gaudet:
   Verum equitis quoque jam migravit ab aure voluptas
   Omnis, ad incertos oculos, & gaudia vana.     Horat.

To the Great Example of H O N O U R and V E R T U E, the most Noble

W I L L I A M

E A R L of P E M B R O K E , L O R D C H A M B E R L A I N, &c.
M Y L O R D,

I

N so thick and dark an Ignorance, as now almost covers the Age, I crave leave to stand near your Light, and by that to be read. Posterity may pay your Benefit the Honour and Thanks, when it shall know, that you dare, in these Jig-given times, to countenance a Legitimate Poem. I must call it so, against all noise of Opinion: from whose crude and airy Reports, I appeal to that great and singular Faculty of Judgment in your Lordship, able to vindicate Truth from Error. It is the First (of this Race) that ever I dedicated to any Person; and had I not thought it the best, it should have been taught a less Ambition. Now it approacheth your Censure chearfully, and with the same assurance that Innocency would appear before a Magistrate.

Your Lordships most faithful Honourer,

BEN. JOHNSON.

238

The P E R S O N S of the P L A Y.

S Y L L A' S G H O S T.

C A T I L I N E.	G A B I N I U S.	C Ć S A R.
L E N T U L U S.	S T A T I L I U S.	Qu. C I C E R O.
C E T H E G U S.	C E P A R I U S.	S Y L L A N U S.
C U R I U S.	C O R N E L I U S.	F L A C C U S.
A U T R O N I U S.	V O L T U R T I U S.	P O M T I N I U S.
V A R G U N T E I U S.	C I C E R O.	S A N G A.
L O N G I N U S.	A N T O N I U S.	S E N A T O R S.
L E C C A.	C A T O.	A L L O B R O G E S.
F U L V I U S.	C A T U L U S.	P E T R E I U S.
B E S T I A.	C R A S S U S.	S O L D I E R S.
A U R E L I A.	G A L L A.	S E R V A N T S.
F U L V I A.	P O R T E R.	P A G E S.
S E M P R O N I A.	L I C T O R S.

C H O R U S.

The S C E N E

R O M E.

The Principal T R A G ś D I A N S were,

RIC. BURBADGE.

ALEX. COOKE.

JOH. LOWIN.

WILL. OSTLER.

RICH. ROBINSON.

JOH. HEMINGS.

HEN. CONDEL.

JOH. UNDERWOOD.

NIC. TOOLY.

WILL. EGLESTONE.

C A T I L I N E.

239

C A T I L I N E.

Act I.

Sylla's Ghost.

Ost thou not feel me, Rome? not yet? Is
Night
So heavy on thee, and my weight so light?
Can Sylla's Ghost arise within thy Walls
Less threatning than an Earthquake, the quick falls
Of thee and thine? Shake not the frighted heads
Of thy steep Towers? or shrink to their first Beds?
Or, as their Ruine the large Tyber fills,
Make that swell up, and drown thy seven proud Hills?
What sleep is this doth seize thee so like Death,
And is not it? VVake, feel her my in breath:
Behold I come, sent from the Stygian Sound,
As a dire Vapor that had cleft the ground,
T' ingender with the Night, and blast the Day;
Or like a Pestilence that should display
Infection through the world: which thus I do.

[Discovers Catiline in his Study.

Pluto be at thy Councels, and into
Thy darker bosome enter Sylla's Spirit:
All that was mine, and bad, thy breast inherit.
Alas how weak is that for Catiline!
Did I but say (vain voice!) all that was mine?
All that the Gracchi, Cinna, Marius would:
VVhat now, had I a Body again, I could,
Coming from Hell; what Fiends would wish should be;
And Hannibal could not have wish'd to see:
Think thou, and practice. Let the long hid Seeds
Of Treason in thee, now shoot fortb in Deeds
Ranker than Horror; and thy former Facts
Not fall in mention, but to urge new Acts:
Conscience of them provoke thee on to more.
Be still thy Incests, Murders, Rapes before
Thy Sense; thy forcing first a Vestal Nun;
Thy Parricide, late, on thy own only Son,
After his Mother; to make empty way
For thy last wicked Nuptials; worse than they
That blaze that act of thy incestuous Life,
VVhich got thee at once a daughter and a wife.
I leave the slaughters that thou didst for me
Of Senators; for which, I hid for thee
Thy Murder of thy Brother, (being so brib'd)
And writ him in the List of my proscrib'd
After thy Fact, to save thy little shame:
Thy Incest with thy Sister, I not name.
These are too light. Fate will have thee pursue
Deeds, after which no mischief can be new;
The Ruin of thy Countrey: thou wert built
For such a work, and born for no less guilt.
What though defeated once th' hast been, and known,
Tempt it again: That is thy act, or none.
What all the several Ills that visit Earth,
(Brought forth by Night, with a sinister birth)
Plagues, Famine, Fire, could not reach unto,
The Sword, nor Surfeits; let thy Fury do:
Make all past, present, future Ill thine own;
And conquer all Example in thy one.
Nor let thy thought find any vacant time
To hate an old, but still a fresher Crime

[column break]

Drown the remembrance: let not mischief cease,
But while it is in punishing, increase.
Conscience and Care die in thee; and be free
Not Heav'n it self, from thy Impiety:
Let Night grow blacker with thy Plots, and Day,
At shewing but thy Head forth, start away
From this half-sphear: and leave Rome's blinded Walls
T' embrace Lusts, Hatreds, Slaughters, Funerals,
And not recover sight till their own flames
Do light them to their Ruines. All the Names
Of thy Confederates too, be no less great
In Hell than here: that when we would repeat
Our strengths in muster, we may name you all,
And Furies upon you for Furies call.
Whilst what you do may strike them into fears,
Or make them grieve, and wish your mischief theirs.

Catiline.

T is decree'd. Nor shall thy Fate, O Rome,
Resist my vow. Tho Hills were set on Hills,
And Seas met Seas to guard thee, I would through:
I plough up Rocks, steep as the Alpes, in dust;
And lave the Tyrrhene Waters into Clouds;
But I would reach thy Head, thy Head, proud City.
The Ills that I have done cannot be safe
But by attempting greater; and I feel
A Spirit within me chides my sluggish hands,
And says, they have been innocent too long.
Was I a man bred great as Rome her self?
One form'd for all her Honours, all her Glories?
Equal to all her Titles? that could stand
Close up with Atlas, and sustain her Name
As strong as he doth Heaven? And was I,
Of all her Brood, mark'd out for the repulse
By her no voice, when I stood Candidate,
To be Commander in the Pontick War?
I will hereafter call her Step-dame ever!
If she can lose her Nature, I can lose
My Piety; and in her stony Entrails
Dig me a Seat: where I will live again,
The labour of her Womb, and be a burden
Weightier than all the Prodigies and Monsters
That she hath teem'd with, since she first knew Mars.

Catiline, Aurelia

Ho's there? Aur. 'Tis I. Cat. Aurelia?
Aur. Yes. Cat. Appear,
And break like day, my Beauty, to this Circle:
Upbraid thy Phśbus, that he is so long
In mounting to that point, which should give thee
Thy proper splendor. Wherefore frowns my Sweet?
Have I too long been absent from these Lips,

[He kisseth them.

This Cheek, these Eyes? What is my trespass? speak.
   Aur. It seems you know, that can accuse your self.
   Cat. I will redeem it.
   Aur. Still you say so. When?
   Cat. When Orestilla, by her bearing well
These my Retirements, and stoln times for thought,
Shall give their Effects leave to call her Queen
Of all the world, in place of humbled Rome.

Aur.

240	Catiline.

   Aur. You court me now.
   Cat. As I would always, Love,
By this Ambrosiack Kiss, and this of Nectar,
Wouldst thou but hear as gladly as I speak.
Could my Aurelia think I meant her less;
When wooing her, I first remov'd a Wife,
And then a Son, to make my Bed and House
Spatious, and fit t' embrace her? These were Deeds
Not t' have begun with, but to end with more
And greater: "He that, building, stays at one
"Floor, or the second, hath erected none.
'Twas how to raise thee I was meditating;
To make some act of mine answer thy Love:
That Love, that when my State was now quite sunk,
Came with thy wealth, and weigh'd it up again,
And made my 'emergent Fortune once more look
Above the Main; which now shall hit the Stars,
And stick my Orestilla there amongst 'em,
If any Tempest can but make the Billow,
And any Billow can but lift her Greatness.
But I must pray my Love, she will put on
Like Habits with my self. I have to do
With many Men and many Natures. Some
That must be blown and sooth'd; as Lentulus,
Whom I have heav'd with magnifying his Blood,
And a vain Dream out of the Sybill's Books,
That a third man of that great Family
Whereof he is descended, the Cornelii,
Should be a King in Rome: which I have hir'd
The flattering Augures to interpret him,
Cinna and Sylla dead. Then bold Cethegus,
Whose Valour I have turn'd into his Poyson,
And prais'd so into daring, as he would
Go on upon the Gods, kiss Lightning, wrest
The Engine from the Cyclops, and give fire
At face of a full Cloud, and stand his Ire,
When I would bid him move. Others there are,
Whom Envy to the State draws, and puts on
For Contumelies receiv'd, (and such are sure ones)
As Curius, and the fore-nam'd Lentulus,
Both which have been degraded in the Senate,
And must have their Disgraces still new rubb'd,
To make 'em smart, and labour of Revenge.
Others whom meer Ambition fires, and dole
Of Provinces abroad, which they have feign'd
To their crude hopes, and I as amply promis'd:
These, Lecca, Vargunteius, Bestia, Autronius.
Some whom their Wants oppress, as th' idle Captains
Of Sylla's Troops: and divers Roman Knights
(The profuse wasters of their Patrimonies)
So threatned with their Debts, as they will now
Run any desperate Fortune for a Change.
These for a time we must relieve, Aurelia,
And make our House the Safe-guard: like for those
That fear the Law, or stand within her gripe,
For any act past, or to come. Such will
From their own Crimes be factious, as from ours.
Some more there be, slight Airlings, will be won
With Dogs and Horses, or perhaps a Whore;
Which must be had: and if they venture Lives
For us, Aurelia, we must hazard Honours
A little. Get thee store and change of women,
As I have boys; and give 'em time and place,
And all connivence: be thy self, too, courtly;
And entertain, and feast, sit up, and revel;
Call all the great, the fair, and spirited Dames
Of Rome about thee: and begin a fashion
Of Freedom and Community. Some will thank thee,
Tho the sowr Senate frown, whose heads must ake
In fear and feeling too. We must not spare
Or cost or modesty. It can but shew
Like one of Juno's or of Jove's disguises,
In either thee or me: and will as soon,
When things succeed, be thrown by, or let fall,

[column break]

As is a Vail put off, a Visor chang'd,

[A noise without.

Or the Scene shifted, in our Theaters —
Who's that? It is the voice of Lentulus.
Aur. Or of Cethegus.
Cat. In, my fair Aurelia,
And think upon these Arts. They must not see
How far you are trusted with these Privacies;
Tho on their shoulders, necks, and heads you rise.

Lentulus, Cethegus, Catiline.

T is, methinks, a morning full of fate!
It riseth slowly, as her sullen care
Had all the weights of sleep and death hung at it!
She is not Rosie-finger'd, but swoln black!
Her Face is like a water turn'd to blood,
And her sick Head is bound about with Clouds,
As if she threatned Night e're Noon of Day!
It does not look as it would have a Hail
Or Health wish'd in it, as on other Morns.
   Cet. Why, all the fitter, Lentulus: Our coming
Is not for Salutation, we have Business.
   Cat. Said nobly, brave Cethegus. Where's Autronius?
   Cet. Is he not come?   Cat. Not here.
   Cet. Not Vargunteius?
   Cat. Neither.
   Cet. A fire in their Beds and Bosoms,
That so will serve their Sloth rather than Vertue.
They are no Romans, and at such high need
As now.   Len. Both they, Longinus, Lecca, Curius,
Fulvius, Gabinius, gave me word last night,
By Lucius Bestia, they would all be here,
And early.
   Cet. Yes? As you, had I not call'd you.
Come, we all sleep, and are meer Dormice; Flies
A little less than dead: more dulness hangs
On us than on the morn. W' are spirit bound,
In Ribs of Ice; our whole Bloods are one Stone;
And Honour cannot thaw us, nor our Wants,
Tho they burn hot as Fevers to our States.
   Cat. I muse they would be tardy at an hour
Of so great purpose.
   Cet. If the Gods had call'd
Them to a purpose, they would just have come
With the same Tortoyse speed! that are thus slow
To such an Action, which the Gods will envy,
As asking no less means than all their Powers
Conjoyn'd, t' effect. I would have seen Rome burnt
By this time, and her Ashes in an Urn:
The Kingdom of the Senate rent asunder;
And the degenerate talking Gown run frighted
Out of the Air of Italy.
   Cat. Spirit of Men!
Thou Heart of our great Enterprise! how much
I love these Voices in thee!
   Cet. O, the days
Of Sylla's Sway, when the free Sword took leave
To act all that it would!
   Cat. And was familiar
With Entrails, as our Augures.
   Cet. Sons kill'd Fathers,
Brothers their Brothers.
   Cat. And had Price and Praise.
All Hate had Licence given it; all Rage reigns.
   Cet. Slaughter bestrid the Streets, and stretch'd himself
To seem more huge; whilst to his stained thighs
The Gore he drew flow'd up, and carried down
Whole heaps of Limbs and Bodies through his Arch.
No Age was spar'd, no Sex.
   Cat. Nay, no Degree.
   Cet. Not Infants in the Porch of Life were free.
The Sick, the Old, that could but hope a Day
Longer by Natures Bounty, not let stay.
Virgins, and Widows, Matrons, pregnant Wives,

All

Catiline.

241

All died.   Cat. 'Twas Crime enough, that they had Lives.
To strike but only those that could do hurt,
VVas dull and poor. Some fell to make the Number,
As some the Prey.   Cet. The rugged Charon fainted,
And ask'd a Navy, rather than a Boat,
To ferry over the sad VVorld that came:
The Maws and Dens of Beasts could not receive
The Bodies that those Souls were frighted from;
And ev'n the Graves were fill'd with Men, yet living,
VVhose Flight and Fear had mix'd them with the Dead.
   Cat. And this shall be again, and more, and more,
Now Lentulus, the third Cornelius,
Is to stand up in Rome.   Len. Nay, urge not that
Is so uncertain.   Cat. How!   Len. I mean, not clear'd,
And therefore not to be reflected on.
   Cat. The Sybils Leaves uncertain! or the Comments
Of our grave, deep, divining Men, not clear!
   Len. All Prophecies, you know, suffer the torture.
   Cat. But this already hath confess'd, without;
And so been weigh'd, examin'd, and compar'd,
As 'twere malicious Ignorance in him
VVould faint in the Belief.   Len. Do you believe it?
   Cat. Do I love Lentulus, or pray to see it?
   Len. The Augures all are constant, I am meant.
   Cat. They' had lost their Science else.
   Len. They count from Cinna.
   Cat. And Sylla next, and so make you the third;
All that can say the Sun is ris'n, must think it.
   Len. Men mark me more of late, as I come forth!
   Cat. VVhy, what can they do less? Cinna and Sylla
Are set, and gone; and we must turn our Eyes
On him that is, and shines. Noble Cethegus,
But view him with me, here! He looks already
As if he shook a Scepter ore the Senate,
And the aw'd Purple dropt their Rods and Axes!
The Statues melt again, and Houshold Gods
In Groans confess the Travels of the City:
The very VValls sweat Blood before the Change;
And Stones start out to Ruin, ere it comes.
   Cet. But he, and we, and all are idle still.
   Len. I am your Creature, Sergius; and what ere
The Great Cornelian Name shall win to be,
It is not Augury, nor the Sybils Books,
But Catiline, that makes it.   Cat. I am Shadow
To honour'd Lentulus, and Cethegus here,
VVho are the Heirs of Mars.   Cet. By Mars himself,
Catiline is more my Parent; for whose Vertue
Earth cannot make a Shadow great enough,
Though Envy should come too. O, there they are.
Now we shall talk more, though we yet do nothing.

To them.]

Autronius, Vargunteius, Longinus, Curius, Lecca,
Bestia, Fulvius, Gabinius, &c.

Ail, Lucius Catiline.   Var. Hail, noble Sergius.
   Lon. Hail, Publius Lentulus.
   Cur. Hail, the third Cornelius.
   Lec. Caius Cethegus, hail.
   Cet. Hail, Sloth and Words,
In stead of Men and Spirits.   Cat. Nay, dear Caius —
   Cet. Are your Eyes yet unseel'd? Dare they look Day
In the dull Face?   Cat. He's zealous for th' Affair,
And blames your tardy coming Gentlemen.
   Cet. Unless we had sold our selves to Sleep and Ease,
And would be our Slaves Slaves — Cat. Pray you forbear.
   Cet. The North is not so stark and cold.
   Cat. Cethegus ——
   Bes. We shall redeem all, if your Fire will let us.
   Cat. You are too full of Lightning, noble Caius.
Boy, see all Doors be shut, that none approach us
On this part of the House. Go you, and bid
The Priest, he kill the Slave I mark'd last night,
And bring me of his Blood, when I shall call him:
Till then, wait all without.   Var. How is't, Autronius?

[column break]

   Aut. Longinus?   Lon. Curius?   Cur. Lecca?
   Var. Feel you nothing?
   Lon. A strange unwonted Horror doth invade me,
I know not what it is!   Lec. The Day goes back,
Or else my Senses!   Cur. As at Atreus Feast!

[A Darkness comes over the Place.

Ful. Darkness grows more and more!
Len. The Vestal Flame, I think, be out.

[A Groan of many People
is heard under ground.

Gab. What Groan was that?
Cet. Our Phant'sies.
Strike Fire out of our selves, and force a Day.

[Another.

   Aut. Again it sounds!
   Bes. As all the City gave it!
   Cet. We fear what our selves feign.

[A fiery Light appears.

   Var. What Light is this?
   Cur. Look forth.   Len. It still grows greater!
   Lec. From whence comes it?
   Lon. A bloody Arm it is, that holds a Pine
Lighted, above the Capitol! and now
It waves unto us!   Cat. Brave and ominous!
Our Enterprise is seal'd.   Cet. In spite of Darkness,
That would discountenance it. Look no more;
We lose time, and our selves. To what we came for,
Speak Lucius, we attend you.   Cat. Noblest Romans,
If you were less, or that your Faith and Vertue
Did not hold good that Title, with your Blood,
I should not now unprofitably spend
My self in Words, or catch at empty Hopes,
By airy ways, for solid Certainties.
But since in many, and the greatest Dangers
I still have known you no less true than valiant,
And that I taste in you the same Affections,
To will or nill, to think things good or bad,
Alike with me, (which argues your firm Friendship)
I dare the boldlier, with you, set on foot,
Or lead, unto this great and goodliest Action.
What I have thought of it afore, you all
Have heard a part. I then express'd my Zeal
Unto the Glory; now, the Need enflames me.
When I forethink the hard Conditions
Our States must undergo, except in time
We do redeem our selves to Liberty,
And break the Iron Yoke forg'd for our Necks:
For what less can we call it? when we see
The Commonwealth engross'd so by a few,
The Giants of the State, that do by turns
Enjoy her, and defile her! All the Earth,
Her Kings and Tetrarchs, are their Tributaries;
People and Nations pay them hourly Stipends;
The Riches of the VVorld flows to their Coffers,
And not to Romes. VVhile (but those few) the rest,
However Great we are, Honest, and Valiant,
Are herded with the Vulgar, and so kept,
As we were only bred to consume Corn,
Or wear our VVooll; to drink the Cities VVater;
Ungrac'd, without Authority, or Mark;
Trembling beneath their Rods: to whom (if all
Were well in Rome) we should come forth bright Axes.
All Places, Honours, Offices are theirs,
Or where they will confer 'em! They leave us
The Dangers, the Repulses, Judgments, VVants;
VVhich how long will you bear, most valiant Spirits?
VVere we not better to fall once with Vertue,
Than draw a wretched and dishonour'd Breath,
To lose with Shame, when these Mens Pride will laugh?
I call the Faith of Gods and Men to question,
The Power is in our Hands, our Bodies able,
Our Minds as strong; o' th' contrary, in them
All things grown aged, with their VVealth and Years:
There wants but only to begin the Business,
The Issue is certain.   Cet. Lon. On, let us go on.
   Cur. Bes. Go on, brave Sergius.
   Cat. It doth strike my Soul,
(And who can scape the stroke, that hath a Soul,

I i Or

242	Catiline.

Or but the smallest Air of Man within him?)
To see them swell with Treasure, which they pour
Out i' their Riots, eating, drinking, building,
I, i' the Sea! plaining of Hills with Valleys,
And raising Valleys above Hills; Whilst we
Have not to give our Bodies Necessaries.
They ha' their change of Houses, Mannors, Lordships;
VVe scarce a Fire, or a poor Houshold Lar!
They buy rare Attick Statues, Tyrian Hangings,
Ephesian Pictures, and Corinthian Plate,
Attalick Garments, and now new-found Gems,
Since Pompey went for Asia, which they purchase
At price of Provinces! The River Phasis
Cannot afford 'em Fowl, nor Lucrine Lake
Oysters enow: Circes too is search'd,
To please the witty Gluttony of a Meal!
Their ancient Habitations they neglect,
And set up new; then, if the Echo like not
In such a Room, they pluck down those, build newer,
Alter them too; and, by all frantick ways,
Vex their wild VVealth, as they molest the People,
From whom they force it! Yet they cannot tame,
Or overcome their Riches! not by making
Baths, Orchards, Fish-pools, letting in of Seas,
Here, and then there forcing 'em out again,
VVith mountainous Heaps, for which the Earth hath lost
Most of her Ribs, as Entrails; being now
VVounded no less for Marble, than for Gold!
VVe, all this while, like calm, benumb'd Spectators,
Sit till our Seats do crack, and do not hear
The thundring Ruins; whilst at home our wants,
Abroad our Debts do urge us; our States daily
Bending to bad, our Hopes to worse; and what
Is left, but to be crush'd? VVake, wake, brave Friends,
And meet the Liberty you oft have wish'd for.
Behold, Renown, Riches, and Glory court you.
Fortune holds out these to you, as Rewards.
Me thinks (though I were dumb) th' Affair it self,
The Opportunity, your Needs, and Dangers,
VVith the brave Spoil the VVar brings, should invite you.
Use me your General, or Soldier; neither
My Mind nor Body shall be wanting to you:
And, being Consul, I not doubt t' effect
All that you wish, if trust not flatter me,
And you'd not rather still be Slaves, than Free.
   Cet. Free, free.
   Lon. 'Tis Freedom.   Cur. Fredom we all stand for.
   Cat. VVhy, these are noble Voices! Nothing wants then,
But that we take a solemn Sacrament,
To strengthen our Design.   Cet. And so to act it.
Deferring hurts, where Powers are so prepar'd.
   Aut. Yet, e're we enter into open act,
(With favour) 'twere no loss, if't might be inquir'd,
What the Condition of these Arms would be.
   Var. I, and the Means to carry us through?
   Cat. How, Friends!
Think you that I would bid you grasp the Wind,
Or call you to th' embracing of a Cloud?
Put your known Valors on so dear a Business,
And have no other Second than the Danger,
Nor other Garland than the Loss? Become
Your own Assurances. And for the Means,
Consider, first, the stark Security
The Commonwealth is in now; the whole Senate
Sleepy, and dreaming no such violent Blow;
Their Forces all abroad; of which the greatest,
That might annoy us most, is farthest off,
In Asia, under Pompey; those near hand,
Commanded by our Friends; one Army' in Spain,
By Cneus Piso; th' other in Mauritania,
By Nucerinus; both which I have firm,
And fast unto our Plot. My self then standing
Now to be Consul, with my hop'd Colleague
Caius Antonius, one no less engag'd

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By's wants, than we; and whom I've power to melt,
And cast in any Mould. Beside, some others,
That will not yet be nam'd, (both sure, and great ones)
Who, when the time comes, shall declare themselves
Strong for our Party; so that no Resistance
In Nature can be thought. For our Reward then,
First, all our Debts are paid; dangers of Law,
Actions, Decrees, Judgments against us, quitted;
The Rich men, as in Sylla's times, proscrib'd,
And Publication made of all their Goods:
That House is yours; that Land is his; those Waters,
Orchards, and Walks, a third's; he has that Honour,
And he that Office: Such a Province falls
To Vargunteius; this t' Autronius; that
To bold Cethegus; Rome to Lentulus.
You share the World, her Magistracies, Priesthoods,
Wealth, and Felicity, amongst you, Friends;
And Catiline your Servant. Would you, Curius,
Revenge the Contumely stuck upon you,
In being removed from the Senate? Now,
Now is your time. Would Publius Lentulus
Strike, for the like Disgrace? Now is his time.
Would stout Longinus walk the Streets of Rome,
Facing the Prćtor? Now has he a time
To spurn and tread the Fasces into Dirt,
Made of the Usurers and the Lictors Brains.
Is there a Beauty, here in Rome, you love?
An Enemy you would kill? What Head's not yours?
Whose Wife, which Boy, whose Daughter, of what Race,
That th' Husband or glad Parents shall not bring you,
And boasting of the Office? Only spare
Your selves, and you have all the Earth beside,
A Field to exercise your Longings in.
I see you rais'd, and read your forward Minds
High, in your Faces. Bring the Wine and Blood
You have prepar'd there.   Lon. How!
   Cat. I have kill'd a Slave,
And of his Blood caus'd to be mixt with Wine.
Fill every Man his Bowl. There cannot be
A fitter Drink to make this Sanction in.
Here, I begin the Sacrament to all.
O for a Clap of Thunder now, as loud
As to be heard throughout the Universe,
To tell the World the Fact, and to applaud it.
Be firm, my Hand; not shed a drop, but pour
Fierceness into me with it, and fell Thirst
Of more and more, till Rome be lest as Bloodless
As ever her Fears made her, or the Sword.
And when I leave to wish this to thee, Step-dame,
Or stop t' effect it, with my Powers fainting,
So may my Blood be drawn, and so drunk up,
As is this Slaves.   Lon. And so be mine.   Len. And mine.
   Aut. And mine.   Var. And mine.

[They drink.

   Cet. Swell me my Bowl yet fuller.
Here, I do drink this, as I would do Cato's,
Or the new Fellow Cicero's, with that Vow
Which Catiline hath given.   Cur. So do I.
   Lec. And I.   Bes. And I.   Ful. And I.   Gab. And all of us.
   Cat. Why, now's the business safe, & each man strengthned.

[He spies one of his Boys
not answer —

Sirrah, what ail you?
   Pag. Nothing.   Bes. Somewhat modest.
   Cat. Slave, I will strike your Soul out with my Foot,
Let me but find you again with such a Face:
You Whelp —   Bes. Nay, Lucius.   Cat. Are you coying it,
When I command you to be free, and general
To all?   Bes. You'll be observ'd.   Cat. Arise, and shew
But any least aversion i' your Look
To him that boards you next, and your Throat opens.
   Noble Confederates, thus far is perfect.
Only your Suffrages I will expect
At the Assembly for the chusing Consuls,
And all the Voices you can make by Friends
To my Election. Then let me work out
Your Fortunes, and mine own. Mean while, all rest

Seal'd

Catiline.

243

Seal'd up, and silent, as when rigid Frosts
Have bound up Brooks and Rivers, forc'd wild Beasts
Unto their Caves, and Birds into the Woods,
Clowns to their Houses, and the Country sleeps;
That when the sudden Thaw comes, we may break
Upon 'em lik a Deluge, bearing down
Half Rome before us, and invade the rest
With Cries, and Noise, able to wake the Urns
Of those are dead, and make their Ashes fear.
The Horrors that do strike the World, should come
Loud, and unlook'd for; till they strike, be dumb.
Cet. Oraculous Sergius! Len. God-like Catiline!

C H O R U S.

An nothing Great, and at the height,
Remain so long? but its own Weight
Will ruin it? or, is't blind Chance,
That still desires new States t' advance,
And quit the old? Else why must Rome
Be by it self now overcome?
Hath she not Foes enow of those
Whom she hath made such, and enclose
Her round about? Or, are they none,
Except she first become her own?
O wretchedness of greatest States,
To be obnoxious to these Fates!
That cannot keep what they do gain;
And what they raise, so ill sustain!
Rome now is Mistris of the whole
World, Sea and Land, to either Pole;
And even that Fortune will destroy
The Power that made it: She doth joy
So much in Plenty, Wealth, and Ease,
As now th' Excess is her Disease.
   She builds in Gold, and to the Stars,
As if she threatned Heav'n with Wars;
And seeks for Hell in Quarries deep,
Giving the Fiends, that there do keep,
A hope of Day. Her Women wear
The Spoils of Nations in an Ear,
Chang'd for the Treasure of a Shell;
And in their loose Attires do swell,
More light than Sails, when all Winds play:
Yet are the Men more loose than they!
More kemb'd, and bath'd, and rubb'd, and trimm'd,
More sleek, more soft, and slacker Limb'd;
As prostitute; so much, that Kind
May seek it self there, and not find.
They eat on Beds of Silk and Gold,
At Ivory Tables, or Wood sold
Dearer than it; and leaving Plate,
Do drink in Stone of higher Rate.
They hunt all Grounds, and draw all Seas,
Foul every Brook and Bush, to please
Their wanton Taste; and in request
Have new and rare things, not the best.
   Hence comes that wild and vast Expence,
That hath enforc'd Romes Vertue thence,
Which simple Poverty first made:
And now Ambition doth invade
Her State, with eating Avarice,
Riot, and every other Vice.
Decrees are bought, and Laws are sold,
Honours, and Offices, for Gold;
The Peoples Voices, and the free
Tongues in the Senate, bribed be.
Such ruin of her Manners, Rome
Doth suffer now, as she's become
(Without the Gods it soon gainsay)
Both her own Spoiler, and own Prey.
   So, Asia, art thou cru'lly even
With us, for all the Blows thee given;
When we, whose Vertue conquer'd thee,
Thus, by thy Vices, ruin'd be.

[column break]

Act II.

Fulvia, Galla, Servant.

Hose Rooms do smell extreamly. Bring my Glass
And Table hither. Galla.   Gal. Madam.   Ful. Look
Within, i' my blue Cabinet, for the Pearl
I 'had sent me last, and bring it.   Gal. That from Clodius?
   Ful. From Caius Cćsar. Yo' are for Clodius still,
Or Curius. Sirrah, if Quintus Curius come,
I am not in fit mood; I keep my Chamber:
Give warning so without.   Gal. Is this it, Madam?
   Ful. Yes, help to hang it in mine Ear.   Gal. Believe me,
It is a rich one, Madam.   Ful. I hope so:
It should not be worn there else. Make an end,
And bind my Hair up.   Gal. As 'twas yesterday?
   Ful. No, nor the t'other day. When knew you me
Appear two days together in one Dressing?
   Gal. Will you ha't i' the Globe, or Spire?
   Ful. How thou wilt;
Any way, so thou wilt do it, good Impertinence.
Thy Company, if I slept not very well
A nights, would make me an errant Fool, with Questions.
   Gal. Alas, Madam ——
   Ful. Nay, gentle half o' the Dialogue, cease.
   Gal. I do it indeed but for your Exercise,
As your Physician bids me.   Ful. How! does he bid you
To anger me for Exercise?   Gal. Not to anger you,
But stir your Blood a little: There's difference
Between Luke-warm and Boiling, Madam.   Ful. Jove!
She means to cook me, I think. Pray you, ha' done.
   Gal. I mean to dress you, Madam.   Ful. O, my Juno,
Be Friend to me! Off'ring at Wit too? Why, Galla!
Where hast thou been?
   Gal. Why, Madam?   Ful. What hast thou done
With thy poor innocent self?
   Gal. Wherefore, sweet Madam?
   Ful. Thus to come forth, so suddenly, a Wit-worm?
   Gal. It pleases you to flout one. I did dream
Of Lady Sempronia —   Ful. O, the wonder is out.
That did infect thee? Well, and how?   Gal. Methought
She did discourse the best —   Ful. That ever thou heard'st?
   Gal. Yes.   Ful. I' thy Sleep? Of what was her Discourse?
   Gal. O' the Republick, Madam, and the State,
And how she was in debt, and where she meant
To raise fresh Sums: She's a great States-woman!
   Ful. Thou dream'st all this?
   Gal. No, but you know she is, Madam;
And both a Mistris of the Latin Tongue,
And of the Greek.   Ful. I, but I never dreamt it, Galla,
As thou hast done; and therefore you must pardon me.
   Gal. Indeed you mock me, Madam.   Ful. Indeed, no.
Forth with your learned Lady. She has a Wit too?
   Gal. A very masculine one.   Ful. A She-Critick, Galla?
And can compose in Verse, and make quick Jests,
Modest, or otherwise?
   Gal. Yes, Madam.   Ful. She can sing too?
And play on Instruments?   Gal. Of all kinds, they say.
   Ful. And doth dance rarely?   Gal. Excellent! So well,
As a bald Senator made a Jest, and said,
'Twas better than an honest Woman need.
   Ful. Tut, she may bear that. Few wise womens honesties
Will do their courtship hurt.   Gal. She's liberal too, Madam.
   Ful. What! of her Money, or her Honour, pr'y thee?
   Gal. Of both; you know not which she doth spare least.
   Ful. A comely Commendation.   Gal. Troth, 'tis pity
She is in years.   Ful. Why, Galla?   Gal. For it is.
   Ful. O, is that all? I thought th' hadst had a Reason.
   Gal. Why, so I have. She has been a fine Lady,
And yet she dresses her self (except you, Madam)
One o' the best in Rome; and paints, and hides
Her Decays very well.   Ful. They say, it is
Rather a Visor, than a Face, she wears.

I i 2 Gal. They

244	Catiline.

   Gal. They wrong her verily, Madam; she does sleek
With Crums of Bread and Milk, and lies a-nights
In as neat Gloves — But she is fain of late
To seek, more than she's sought to, (the fame is)
And so spends that way.   Ful. Thou know'st all! But Galla,
What say you to Catiline's Lady, Orestilla?
There is the Gallant!   Gal. She does well. She has
Very good Sutes, and very rich; but then
She cannot put 'em on; she knows not how
To wear a Garment. You shall have her all
Jewels and Gold sometimes, so that her self
Appears the least part of her self. No in troth,
As I live, Madam, you put 'em all down
With your meer strength of Judgment, and do draw too
The World of Rome to follow! You attire
Your self so diversly, and with that spirit!
Still to the noblest Humours! They could make
Love to your Dress, altho' your Face were away, they say.
   Ful. And Body too, and ha' the better Match on't.
Say they not so too, Galla? Now! What News
Travels your Count'nance with?   Ser. If't please you, Madam,
The Lady Sempronia is lighted at the Gate.
   Gal. Castor, my Dream, my Dream.
   Ser. And comes to see you.
   Gal. For Venus sake, good Madam, see her.   Ful. Peace,
The Fool is wild, I think.   Gal. And hear her talk,
Sweet Madam, of State-matters, and the Senate.

Sempronia, Fulvia, Galla.

Ulvia, good Wench, how dost thou?
   Ful. Well, Sempronia.
Whither are you thus early addrest?   Sem. To see
Aurelia Orestilla. She sent for me.
I came to call thee with me; wilt thou go?
   Ful. I cannot now, in troth; I have some Letters
To write, and send away.   Sem. Alas, I pity thee.
I ha' been writing all this night (and am
So very weary) unto all the Tribes,
And Centuries, for their Voices, to help Catiline
In his Election. We shall make him Consul,
I hope, amongst us. Crassus, I, and Cćsar
Will carry it for him.   Ful. Does he stand for't?
   Sem. He's the chief Candidate.   Ful. Who stands beside?
(Give me some Wine, and Powder for my Teeth.
   Sem. Here's a good Pearl, in troth.   Ful. A pretty one.
   Sem. A very Orient one!) There are Competitors,
Caius Antonius, Publius Galba, Lucius
Cassius Longinus, Quintus Cornificius,
Caius Licinius, and that Talker Cicero.
But Catiline and Antonius will be chosen;
For four o' the other, Licinius, Longinus,
Galba, and Cornificius, will give way:
And Cicero they will not chuse.   Ful. No? why?
   Sem. It will be cross'd by the Nobility.
   Gal. (How she does understand the Common Business!)
   Sem. Nor were it fit. He is but a new Fellow,
An Inmate here in Rome, (as Catiline calls him)
And the Patricians should do very ill
To let the Consulship be so defil'd
As't would be, if he obtain'd it! A meer Upstart,
That has no Pedigree, no House, no Coat,
No Ensigns of a Family!   Ful. He has Vertue.
   Sem. Hang Vertue, where there is no Blood; 'tis Vice,
And in him Sawciness, Why should he presume
To be more Learned, or more Eloquent,
Than the Nobility? or boast any Quality
Worthy a Nobleman, himself not Noble?
   Ful. 'Twas Vertue only, at first, made all Men Noble.
   Sem. I yield you, it might at first, in Rome's poor age,
When both her Kings and Consuls held the Plow,
Or Garden'd well: But now we ha' no need
To dig, or lose our Sweat for't. We have Wealth,
Fortune, and Ease; and then their Stock to spend on,

[column break]

Of Name, for Vertue; which will bear us out
'Gainst all new Comers, and can never fail us,
While the Succession stays. And we must glorifie
A Mushrom? one of yesterday? a fine Speaker?
'Cause he has suckt at Athens? and advance him,
To our own loss. No, Fulvia; there are they
Can speak Greek too, if need were. Cćsar and I
Have sate upon him; so hath Crassus too,
And others. We have all decreed his Rest,
For rising farther.   Gal. Excellent rare Lady!
   Ful. Sempronia, you are beholden to my Woman here;
She does admire you.   Sem. O good Galla, how dost thou?
   Gal. The better for your learned Ladiship.
   Sem. Is this gray Powder a good Dentifrice?
   Ful. You see I use it.   Sem. I have one is whiter.
   Ful. I may be so.
   Sem. Yet this smells well.   Gal. And cleanses
Very well, Madam, and resists the Crudities.
   Sem. Fulvia, I pray thee, who comes to thee now?
Which of our great Patricians?   Ful. Faith, I keep
No Catalogue of 'em. Sometimes I have one,
Sometimes another, as the Toy takes their Bloods.
   Sem. Thou hast them all. Faith, when was Quintus Curius,
Thy special Servant, here?   Ful. My special Servant?
   Sem. Yes, thy Idolater, I call him.   Ful. He may be yours,
If you do like him.   Sem. How!   Ful. He comes not here;
I have forbid him hence.   Sem. Venus forbid!
   Ful. Why?   Sem. Your so constant Lover.
   Ful. So much the rather.
I would have Change. So would you too, I am sure.
And now you may have him.   Sem. He's fresh yet, Fulvia.
Beware how you do tempt me.   Ful. Faith, for me
He's somewhat too fresh indeed; the Salt is gone,
That gave him season. His good Gifts are done.
He does not yield the Crop that he was wont.
And for the Act, I can have secret Fellows,
With Backs worth ten of him, and shall please me
(Now that the Land is fled) a Myriad better.
   Sem. And those one may command.
   Ful. 'Tis true: these Lordlings,
Your Noble Faunes, they are so imperious, saucie,
Rude, and as boisterous as Centaurs, leaping
A Lady at first sight.   Sem. And must be born
Both with, and out, they think.   Ful. Tut, I'll observe
None of 'em all, nor humour 'em a jot
Longer than they come laden in the Hand,
And say, Here's t'one for th'other.
   Sem. Does Cćsar give well?
   Ful. They shall all give, and pay well, that come here,
If they will have it; and that Jewels, Pearl,
Plate, or round Sums, to buy these. I'm not taken
Whith a Cob-Swan, or a high-mounting Bull,
As foolish Leda and Europa were;
But the bright Gold, with Danae. For such Price
I would endure a rough, harsh Jupiter,
Or ten such thundring Gamesters, and refrain
To laugh at 'em, till they are gone, with my much suffering.
   Sem. Th' art a most happy Wench, that thus canst make
Use of thy Youth and Freshness, in the Season;
And hast it to make use of.   Ful. (Which is the happiness.)
   Sem. I am now fain to give to them, and keep
Musick, and a continual Table, to invite 'em.
   Ful. (Yes, and they study your Kitchen, more than you.)
   Sem. Eat my self out with Usury, and my Lord too,
And all my Officers, and Friends beside,
To procure Moneys for the needful Charge
I must be at, to have 'em; and yet scarce
Can I atchieve 'em so.   Ful. Why, that's because
You affect young Faces only, and smooth Chins,
Sempronia. If you'ld love Beards and Bristles,
(One with another, as others do) or Wrinkles ——
Who's that? Look, Galla.   Gal. 'Tis the Party, Madam.
   Ful. What Party? Has he no name?
   Gal. 'Tis Quintus Curius.

Ful. Did

Catiline.

245

   Ful. Did I not bid 'em say I kept my Chamber?
   Gal. Why, so they do.   Sem. I'll leave you, Fulvia.
   Ful. Nay, good Sempronia, stay.
   Sem. In faith, I will not.
   Ful. By Juno I would not see him.
   Sem. I'll not hinder you.
   Gal. You know, he will not be kept out, Madam.
   Sem. No,
Nor shall not, careful Galla, by my means.
   Ful. As I do live, Sempronia —
   Sem. What needs this?
   Ful. Go, say I am a-sleep, and ill at ease.
   Sem. By Castor, no, I'll tell him, you are awake;
And very well. Stay Galla; farewell Fulvia:
I know my manners. Why do you labour thus,
With action, against purpose? Quintus Curius,
She is, i'faith, here, and in disposition.
   Ful. Spight with your courtesie! How shall I be tor-
      tur'd!

Curius, Fulvia, Galla.

Here are you, fair one, that conceal your self,
And keep your Beauty within Locks and Bars here,
Like a Fools Treasure?
   Ful. True, she was a Fool,
When first she shew'd it to a Thief.
   Cur. How, pretty sullenness!
So harsh and short?   Ful. The Fools Artillery, Sir.
   Cur. Then take my Gown off, for th' encounter.
   Ful. Stay Sir.
I am not in the mood.   Cur. I'll put you into't.
   Ful. Best put your self i' your case again, and keep
Your furious Appetite warm, against you have place for't.
   Cur. What! do you coy it?
   Ful. No Sir. I'am not proud.
   Cur. I would you were. You think this state becomes
      you?
By Hercules, it do's not. Look i' your Glass now,
And see how scurvily that countenance shews;
You would be loth to own it.   Ful. I shall not change it.
   Cur. Faith but you must, and slack this bended Brow;
And shoot less scorn: there is a Fortune coming
Towards you, Dainty, that will take thee thus,
And set thee aloft, to tread upon the Head
Of her own Statue here in Rome.   Ful. I wonder,
Who let this promiser in! Did you, good Diligence?
Give him his Bribe again. Or if you had none,
Pray you demand him, why he is so venturous,
To press thus to my Chamber, being forbidden,
Both by my self and Servants?
   Cur. How! This's handsome!
And somewhat a new strain!
   Ful. 'Tis not strain'd, Sir.
'Tis very natural.   Cur. I have known it otherwise,
Between the Parties, though.
   Ful. For your fore-knowledge,
Thank that which made it. It will not be so
Hereafter, I assure you.   Cur. No, my Mistris?
   Ful. No, though you bring the same materials.
   Cur. Hear me,
You over-act when you should under-do.
A little call your self again, and think.
If you do this to practise on me' or find
At what forc'd distance you can hold your Servant;
That' it be an artificial trick to enflame,
And fire me more, fearing my Love may need it,
As heretofore you ha' done: why, proceed.
   Ful. As I ha' done heretofore?
   Cur. Yes, when you'ld fain
Your Husbands jealousie, your Servants watches,
Speak softly, and run often to the Door,
Or to the Window, form strange fears that were not;
As if the pleasure were less acceptable,

[column break]

That were secure.   Ful. You are an impudent Fellow.
   Cur. And when you might better have done it at the
      Gate,
To take me in at the Casement.   Ful. I take you in?
   Cur. Yes, you my Lady. And then, being a bed
      with you,
To have your well-taughr Waiter here, come running,
And cry, her Lord, and hide me without cause,
Crush'd in a Chest, or thrust up in a Chimney.
When he, tame Crow, was winking at his Farm;
Or, had he been here, and present, would have kept
Both Eyes, and Beak seal'd up, for six Sesterces.
   Ful. You have a slanderous, beastly, unwash'd Tongue,
I' your rude Mouth, and favouring your self,
Un-manner'd Lord.   Cur. How now!
   Ful. It is your Title, Sir.
Who (since you ha' lost your own good Name, and
      know not
What to lose more) care not whose Honour you wound,
Or Fame you poyson with it. You should go
And vent your self i' the Region where you live,
Among the Suburb-brothels, Bawds, and Brokers,
Whither your broken Fortunes have design'd you.

[He offers to force her, and she draws her Knife.

   Cur. Nay, then I must stop your fury, I see; and
      pluck
The Tragick Visor off. Come, Lady Cypris,
Know your own Vertues, quickly. I'll not be
Put to the wooing of you thus, a-fresh,
At every turn, for all the Venus in you.
Yield, and be pliant, or by Pollux —— How now?
Will Lais turn a Lucrece?   Ful. No, but by Castor,
Hold off your Ravishers Hands, I pierce your Heart else.
I'll not be put to kill my self, as she did,
For you, sweet Tarquin. What? do you fall off?
Nay, it becomes you graciously! Put not up.
You'll sooner draw your Weapon on me, I think it,
Than on the Senate, who have cast you forth
Disgracefully, to be the common Tale
Of the whole City; base, infamous Man!
For, were you other, you would there imploy
Your desperate Dagger.   Cur. Fulvia, you do know
The strengths you have upon me; do not use
Your power too like a Tyrant: I can bear
Almost until you break me.   Ful. I do know, Sir,
So do's the Senate too, know you can bear.
   Cur. By all the Gods, the Senate will smart deep
For your upbraidings. I should be right sorry
To have the means so to be veng'd on you,
(At least, the will) as I shall shortly on them.
But, go you on still; fare you well, dear Lady:
You could not still be fair, unless you were proud.
You will repent these moods, and ere't be long too.
I shall ha' you come about again.
   Ful. Do you think so?
   Cur. Yes, and I know so.   Ful. By what Augury?
   Cur. By the fair Entrails of the Matrons Chests,
Gold, Pearl, and Jewels here in Rome, which Fulvia
Will then (but late) say that she might have shar'd:
And grieving miss.
   Ful. Tut, all your promis'd Mountains,
And Seas, I am so stalely acquainted with ——
   Cur. But, when you see the universal Flood
Run by your Coffers; that my Lords, the Senators,
Are sold for Slaves, their Wives for Bond-women,
Their Houses and fine Gardens given away,
And all their Goods, under the Spear at out-cry,
And you have none of this; but are still Fulvia,
Or perhaps less, while you are thinking of it:
You will advise then, Coiness, with your Cushion,
And look o' your Fingers; say, how you were wish'd;
And so he left you.   Ful. Call him again, Galla:
This is not usual! something hangs on this
That I must win out of him.   Cur. How now, melt you?

Ful. Come,

246	Catiline.

   Ful. Come, you will laugh now, at my easiness!
But 'tis no miracle: Doves, they say, will bill,
After their pecking and their murmuring.   Cur. Yes,
And then 'tis kindly. I would have my Love
Angry sometimes, to sweeten off the rest
Of her behaviour.   Ful. You do see, I study
How I may please you then. But you think, Curius,
'Tis covetise hath wrought me: if you love me,
Change that unkind conceit.   Cur. By my lov'd Soul,
I love thee, like to it; and 'tis my study,
More than mine own revenge, to make thee happy.
   Ful. And 'tis that just revenge doth make me happy
To hear you prosecute: and which, indeed,
Hath won me to you, more than all the hope
Of what can else be promis'd. I love Valour
Better than any Lady loves her Face,
Or dressing, than my self do's, Let me grow
Still, where I do embrace. But what good means
Ha' you t' effect it? Shall I know your Project?
   Cur. Thou shalt, if thou'lt be gracious.
   Ful. As I can be.
   Cur. And wilt thou kiss me then?   Ful. As close as Shells
Of Cockles meet.   Cur. And print 'em deep?
   Ful. Quite through
Our subtle Lips.   Cur. And often?   Ful. I will sow 'em
Faster than you can reap. What is your Plot?
   Cur. Why, now my Fulvia looks like her bright name!
And is her self!   Ful. Nay, answer me, your Plot;
I pr'y thee tell me, Quintus.   Cur. I, these Sounds
Become a Mistris. Here is Harmony!
When you are harsh, I see the way to bend you
Is not with violence, but service. Cruel,
A Lady is a fire: gentle, a light.

[She kisses and flatters him along still.

   Ful. Will you not tell me, what I ask you?   Cur. All
That I can think, sweet Love, or my Breast holds,
I'll pour into thee.   Ful. What is your design then?
   Cur. I'll tell thee, Catiline shall now be Consul:
But you will hear more shortly.
   Ful. Nay, dear love ——
   Cur. I'll speak it in thine Arms, let us go in.
Rome will be sack'd, her Wealth will be our prize;
By publick ruine, private Spirits must rise.

C H O R U S.

Reat Father Mars, and greater Jove,
By whose high auspice, Rome hath stood
   So long; and first was built in Blood
Of your great Nephew, that then strove
Not with his Brother, but your rites:
   Be present to her now, as then,
   And let not proud and factious Men
Against your wills oppose their mights.
Our Consuls, now are to be made;
   O, put it in the publick voice
   To make a free and worthy choice:
Excluding such as would invade
The Commonwealth. Let whom we name,
   Have wisdom, fore-sight, fortitude,
   Be more with Faith than Face endu'd,
And study Conscience, above Fame.
Such, as not seek to get the start
   In State, by Power, Parts, or Bribes,
   Ambitions Bawds: but move the Tribes
By Vertue, Modesty, Desert.
Such, as to Justice will adhere,
   What ever great one it offend:
   And from the embraced truth not bend
For envy, hatred, gifts, or fear.
That by their deeds will make it known,
   Whose Dignity they do sustain;
   And Life, State, Glory, all they gain,
Count the Republicks, not their own.

[column break]

Such the old Bruti, Decii were,
   The Cipi, Curtii, who did give
   Themselves for Rome: and would not live
As Men, good only for a year.
Such were the great Camilli, too;
   The Fabii, Scipio's; that still thought
   No work at price enough was bought,
That for their Country they could do.
And to her honour, so did knit;
   As all their acts were understood
   The Sinews of the publick good:
And they themselves, one Soul, with it.
These Men were truly Magistrates;
   These neither practis'd force, nor forms;
   Nor did they leave the Helm in storms!
And such they are make happy States.

Act III.

Cicero, Cato, Catulus, Antonius, Crassus, Cćsar, Chorus,
Lictors.

Reat Honours are great burdens: but, on whom
They'are cast with envy, he doth bear two loads.
His cares must still be double to his joys,
In any Dignity; where, if he err,
He finds no pardon: and for doing well
A most small praise, and that wrung out by force.
I speak this, Romans, knowing what the weight
Of the high charge, you' have trusted to me, is.
Not that thereby I would with art decline
The good, or greatness of your benefit;
For, I ascribe it to your singular grace,
And vow to owe it to no title else,
Except the Gods, that Cicero is your Consul.
I have no Urns; no dusty Monuments;
No broken Images of Ancestors,
Wanting an Ear, or Nose; no forged Tables
Of long descents, to boast false honours from:
Or be my undertakers to your trust.
But a new Man (as I am stil'd in Rome)
Whom you have dignified; and more, in whom
Yo' have cut a way, and left it ope for vertue
Hereafter, to that place: which our great Men
Held shut up, with all ramparts, for themselves.
Nor have but few of them, in time been made
Your Consuls, so; new Men, before me, none:
At my first suit; in my just year; prefer'd
To all competitors; and some the noblest —
   Cra. Now the vein swels.   Cćs. Up glory.
   Cic. And to have
Your loud consents, from your own utter'd Voices;
Not silent Books: nor from the meaner Tribes,
But first and last, the universal concourse!
This is my joy, my gladness. But my care,
My industry and vigilance now must work,
That still your Counsels of me be approv'd,
Both by your selves, and those to whom you have
With grudge prefer'd me: two things I must labour,
That neither they upbraid, nor you repent you.
For every lapse of mine will now be call'd
Your error, if I make such. But, my hope is,
So to bear through, and out, the Consulship,
As spight shall ne'er wound you, though it may me.
And for my self, I have prepar'd this strength,
To do so well; as, if there happen ill
Unto me, it shall make the Gods to blush:
And be their crime, not mine, that I am envi'd.
   Cćs. O confidence! more new than is the Man!
   Cic. I know well, in what terms I do receive
The Commonwealth, how vexed, how preplex'd:
In which there's not that mischief, or ill fate,

That

Catiline.

247

That good Men fear not, wicked Men expect not.
I know, beside some turbulent practises
Already on foot, and rumors of more dangers —
   Cra. Or you will make them, if there be none.
   Cic. Last,
I know, 'twas this, which made the envy and pride
Of the great Roman Blood bate, and give way
To my Election.   Cat. Marcus Tullius, true;
Our need made thee our Consul, and thy vertue.
   Cćs. Cato, you will undo him with your praise?
   Cato. Cćsar will hurt himself with his own envy.
   Chor. The Voice of Cato is the Voice of Rome.
   Cato. The Voice of Rome is the Consent of Heaven!
And that hath plac'd thee, Cicero, at the Helm,
Where thou must render now thy self a Man,
And Master of thy Art. Each petty hand
Can steer a Ship becalm'd; but he that will
Govern, and carry her to her ends, must know
His Tides, his Currents; how to shift his Sails;
What she will bear in foul, what in fair Weathers;
Where her Springs are, her Leaks; and how to stop 'em;
What Stands, what Shelves, what Rocks do threaten her;
The forces, and the natures of all Winds,
Gusts, Storms, and Tempests; when her Keel ploughs Hell,
And Deck knocks Heaven: then to manage her,
Becomes the name and office of a Pilot.
   Cic. Which I'll perform, with all the diligence
And fortitude I have; not for my year,
But for my life; except my life be less,
And that my year conclude it: if it must,
Your Will, lov'd Gods. This Heart shall yet employ
A day, an hour is left me, so for Rome,
As it shall spring a life out of my death,
To shine for ever glorious in my facts.
The vicious count their years, vertuous their acts.
   Chor. Most noble Consul! Let us wait him home.
   Cćs. Most popular Consul he is grown, methinks!
   Cra. How the rout cling to him!
   Cćs. And Cato leads 'em!
   Cra. You, his collegue Antonius, are not lookt on.
   Ant. Not I, nor do I care.   Cćs. He enjoys rest,
And ease the while. Let th' others Spirit toil,
And wake it out, that was inspir'd for turmoil.
   Catu. If all reports be true, yet Caius Cćsar,
The time hath need of such a Watch and Spirit.
   Cćs. Reports? Do you believe 'em Catulus?
Why he does make, and breed 'em for the People;
T' endear his service to 'em. Do you not taste
An Art that is so common? Popular Men,
They must create strange monsters, and then quell 'em,
To make their Arts seem something. Would you have
Such an Herculean actor in the Scene,
And not his Hydra? They must sweat no less
To fit their properties, than t'express their parts.
   Cra. Treasons, and guilty Men are made in States
Too oft, to dignifie the Magistrates.
   Catu. Those States be wretched that are forc'd to buy
Their Rulers fame with their own infamy.
   Cra. We therefore should provide that ours do not.
   Cćs. That will Antonius make his care.
   Ant. I shall.
   Cćs. And watch the watcher.
   Catu. Here comes Catiline.
How does he brook his late repulse?
   Cćs. I know not,
But hardly sure.   Cat. Longinus too did stand?
   Cćs. At first: but he gave way unto his Friend.
   Catu. Who's that come? Lentulus?
   Cćs. Yes; he is again
Taken into the Senate.   Ant. And made Prćtor.
   Catu. I know't. He had my suffrage, next the Consuls.
   Cćs. True, you were there, Prince of the Senate, then.

[column break]

Catiline, Antonius, Catulus, Cćsar, Crassus, Longinus,
Lentulus.

Ail noblest Romans. The most worthy Consul,
I gratulate your Honour.   Ant. I could wish
It had been happier, by your fellowship,
Most noble Sergius, had it pleas'd the People.
   Cati. It did not please the Gods, who instruct the
      People:
And their unquestion'd pleasures must be serv'd.
They know what's fitter for us than our selves;
And 'twere Impiety to think against them.
   Catu. You bear it rightly, Lucius; and it glads me,
To find your thoughts so even.   Cati. I shall still
Study to make them such to Rome, and Heaven.
(I would withdraw with you a little, Julius.
   Cćs. I'll come home to you: Crassus would not ha' you
To speak to him, 'fore Quintus Catullus.
   Cati. I apprehend you.) No, when they shall judge
Honours convenient for me, I shall have 'em,
With a full hand: I know it. In mean time,
They are no less part of the Commonwealth,
That do obey, than those that do command.
   Catu. O let me kiss your Fore-head, Lucius.
How are you wrong'd!   Cati. By whom?
   Catu. Publick report.
That gives you out, to stomach your repulse;
And brook it deadly.   Cati. Sir, she brooks not me.
Believe me rather, and your self, now of me:
It is a kind of slander to trust rumour.
   Catu. I know it. And I could be angry with it.
   Cati. So may not I. Where it concerns himself,
Who's angry at a slander, makes it true.
   Catu. Most noble Sergius! This your temper melts me.
   Cra. Will you do office to the Consul, Quintus?
   Cćs. Which Cato, and the rout have done the other?
   Catu. I wait, when he will go. Be still your self.
He wants no state, or honours, that hath vertue.
   Cati. Did I appear so tame, as this Man thinks me?
Look'd I so poor? so dead? so like that nothing,
Which he calls vertuous? O my Breast, break quickly;
And shew my Friends my in-parts, lest they think
I have betraid 'em.   (Lon. Where's Gabinius?
   Len. Gone.
   Lon. And Vargunteius?
   Len. Slipt away; all shrunk:
Now that he mist the Consulship.)   Cati. I am
The scorn of Bond-men, who are next to Beasts.
What can I worse pronounce my self, that's fitter?
The Owle of Rome, whom Boys and Girls will hout!
That were I set up, for that woodden God,
That keeps our Gardens, could not fright the Crows,
Or the least Bird from muting on my Head.
   (Lon. 'Tis strange how he should miss it.
   Len. Is't not stranger,
The up-start Cicero should carry it so,
By all consents, from Men so much his Masters?
   Lon. 'Tis true.)
   Cati. To what a shadow am I melted!
   (Lon. Antonius wan it but by some few Voices.)
   Cati. Struck through, like Air, and feel it not. My
      wounds
Close faster, than they'r made.   (Len. The whole design,
And enterprise is lost by't. All Hands quit it,
Upon his fail.)   Cati. I grow mad at my patience.
It is a Visor that hath poison'd me.
Would it had burnt me up, and I died inward:
My heart first turn'd to ashes.   (Lon. Here's Cethegus yet.)

Catiline,

248	Catiline.

Catiline, Cethegus, Lentulus, Longinus, Cato.

Epulse upon repulse? An in-mate Consul?
That I could reach the Axel, where the Pins are,
Which bolt this Frame; that I might pull 'em out,
And pluck all into Chaos, with my self.
   Cet. What, are we wishing now?
   Cati. Yes, my Cethegus.
Who would not fall with all the World about him?
   Cet. Not I, that would stand on it, when it falls;
And force new nature out to make another.
These wishings taste of Woman, not of Roman.
Let us seek other Arms.   Cati. What should we do?
   Cet. Do, and not wish; something that wishes take not:
So sudden, as the Gods should not prevent,
Nor scarce have time to fear.   Cati. O noble Caius!
   Cet. It likes me better, that you are not Consul.
I would not go through open Doors, but break 'em;
Swim to my ends through Blood; or build a Bridge
Of Carcasses; make on, upon the heads
Of Men, struck down like Piles; to reach the lives
Of those remain and stand: Then is't a prey,
When danger stops, and ruine makes the way.
   Cati. How thou dost utter me, brave Soul, that may not
At all times shew such as I am, but bend
Upon occasion? Lentulus, this Man,
If all our fire were out, would fetch down new,
Out of the hand of Jove; and rivet him
To Caucasus, should he but frown: and let
His own gaunt Eagle fly at him, to tire.
   Len. Peace, here comes Cato.
   Cati. Let him come, and hear.
I will no more dissemble. Quit us all;
I, and my lov'd Cethegus here, alone
Will undertake this Giants War, and carry it.
   Len. What needs this, Lucius?
   Lon. Sergius, be more wary.
   Cati. Now, Marcus Cato, our new Consuls Spie,
What is your sowre austerity sent t' explore?
   Cato. Nothing in thee, licencious Catiline:
Halters and Racks cannot express from thee
More than thy deeds. 'Tis only judgment waits thee.
   Cati. Whose? Cato's? shall he judge me?
   Cato. No, the Gods;
Who ever follow those, they go not with:
And Senate, who with fire, must purge sick Rome
Of noisome Citizens, whereof thou 'art one.
Be gone, or else let me. 'Tis bane to draw
The same Air with thee.   Cet. Strike him.
   Len. Hold, good Caius.
   Cet. Fear'st thou not, Cato?   Cato. Rash Cethegus, no.
'Twere wrong with Rome, when Catiline and thou
Do threat, if Cato fear'd.   Cati. The fire you speak of,
If any flames of it approach my Fortunes,
I'll quench it not with water, but with ruine.
   Cato. You hear this, Romans.
   Cati. Bear it to the Consul.
   Cet. I would have sent away his Soul before him.
You are too heavy, Lentulus, and remiss;
It is for you we labour, and the Kingdom
Promis'd you by the Sybil's.
   Cati. Which his Prćtor-ship,
And some small flattery of the Senate more,
Will make him to forget.
   Len. You wrong me, Lucius.
   Lon. He will not need these Spurs.
   Cet. The action needs 'em.
These things, when they proceed not, they go backward.
   Len. Let us consult then.   Cet. Let us first take Arms.
They that deny us just things now, will give
All that we ask, if once they see our Swords.
   Cat. Our objects must be sought with wounds, not
      words.

[column break]

Cicero, Fulvia.

S there a Heaven? and Gods? and can it be
They should so slowly hear, so slowly see!
Hath Jove no Thunder? or is Jove become
Stupid as thou art? O neer-wretched Rome,
When both thy Senate, and thy Gods do sleep,
And neither thine, nor their own States do keep!
What will awake thee, Heaven? what can excite
Thine anger, if this practice be too light?
His former drifts partake of former times,
But this last Plot was only Catilines.
O, that it were his last. But he, before
Hath safely done so much, he'll still dare more.
Ambition, like a torrent, ne'er looks back;
And is a swelling, and the last affection
A high mind can put off: being both a rebel
Unto the Soul, and Reason, and enforceth
All Laws, all Conscience, treads upon Religion,
And offereth violence to Natures self.
But here is that transcends it! A black purpose
To confound Nature: and to ruine that,
Which never Age nor Mankind can repair!
Sit down, good Lady; Cicero is lost
In this your Fable: for, to think it true
Tempteth my Reason. It so far exceeds
All insolent Fictions of the Tragick Scene!
The Commonwealth yet panting underneath
The stripes and wounds of a late civil War,
Gasping for life, and scarce restor'd to hope;
To seek t'oppress her with new cruelty,
And utterly extinguish her long name,
With so prodigious and unheard-of fierceness!
What sink of monsters, wretches of lost minds,
Mad after change, and despeaate in their states,
Wearied, and gall'd with their necessities,
(For all this I allow them) durst have thought it?
Would not the barbarous deeds have been believ'd,
Of Marius, and Sylla, by our Children,
Without this fact had rise forth greater for them?
All that they did, was Piety, to this!
They yet but murdred Kinsfolk, Brothers, Parents,
Ravish'd the Virgins, and perhaps, some Matrons;
They left the City standing, and the Temples:
The Gods and Majesty of Rome were safe yet!
These purpose to fire it, to despoil them,
(Beyond the other evils) and lay waste
The far-triumphed World: for, unto whom
Rome is too little, what can be enough?
   Ful. 'Tis true, my Lord, I had the same discourse.
   Cic. And then, to take a horrid Sacrament
In human Blood, for execution
Of this their dire design; which might be call'd
The heighth of wickedness: but that, that was higher,
For which they did it!   Ful. I assure your Lordship,
The extreme horrour of it almost turn'd me
To Air, when first I heard it; I was all
A Vapour when 'twas told me: and I long'd
To vent it any where. 'Twas such a secret,
I thought it would have burnt me up.
   Cic. Good Fulvia,
Fear not your act; and less repent you of it.
   Ful. I do not, my good Lord. I know to whom
I have utter'd it.   Cic. You have discharg'd it, safely.
Should Rome, for whom you have done the happy service,
Turn most ingrate; yet were your vertue paid
In conscience of the fact: so much good deeds
Reward themselves.   Ful. My Lord, I did it not
To any other aim, but for it self.
To no ambition.   Cic. You have learn'd the difference
Of doing office to the publique Weal,
And private friendship: and have shewn it, Lady.
Be still your self. I have sent for Quintus Curius,

And

Catiline.

249

And (for your vertuous sake) if I can win him
Yet to the Common-wealth, he shall be safe too.
Ful. I'll undertake, my Lord, he shall be won.
Cic. Pray you join with me then, and help to work him.

Cicero, Lictor, Fulvia, Curius.

Ow now? Is he come?
   Lic. He' is here, my Lord.   Cic. Go presently,
Pray my Colleague Antonius I may speak with him,
About some present Business of the State;
And (as you go) call on my Brother Quintus,
And pray him, with the Tribunes, to come to me.
Bid Curius enter. Fulvia, you will aid me?
   Ful. It is my Duty.   Cic. O, my noble Lord!
I have to chide you, i' faith. Give me your Hand.
Nay, be not troubled; 't shall be gently, Curius.
You look upon this Lady? What! do you guess
My Business yet? Come, if you frown, I thunder:
Therefore put on your better Looks and Thoughts.
There's nought but fair and good intended to you;
And I would make those your Complexion.
Would you, of whom the Senate had that hope,
As, on my knowledge, it was in their purpose
Next Sitting to restore you, as they done
The stupid and ungratful Lentulus,
(Excuse me, that I name you thus together,
For yet you are not such.) Would you, I say,
A Person both of Blood and Honour, stockt
In a long Race of vertuous Ancestors,
Embark your self for such a hellish Action,
With Parricides and Traitors, Men turn'd Furies,
Out of the Waste and Ruine of their Fortunes!
(For 'tis Despair that is the Mother of Madness.)
Such as want (that which all Conspirators
But they have first) meer Colour for their Mischief?
O, I must blush with you. Come, you shall not labour
T' extenuate your Guilt, but quit it clean:
Bad Men excuse their Faults, good Men will leave 'em.
He acts the third Crime, that defends the first.
Here is a Lady that hath got the start
In Piety of us all, and for whose Vertue
I could almost turn Lover again, but that
Terentia would be jealous. What an Honour
Hath she atchieved to her self! What Voices,
Titles, and loud Applauses will pursue her
Through every Street! What Windows will be fill'd,
To shoot Eyes at her! What Envy and Grief in Matrons,
They are not she! When this her Act shall seem
Worthier a Chariot, than if Pompey came
With Asia chain'd! All this is, while she lives;
But dead, her very Name will be a Statue!
Not wrought for Time, but rooted in the Minds
Of all Posterity; when Brass and Marble,
I, and the Capitol it self is Dust!
   Ful. Your Honour thinks too highly of me.   Cic. No;
I cannot think enough; and I would have
Him emulate you. 'Tis no shame to follow
The better Precedent. She shews you, Curius,
What Claim your Country lays to you, and what Duty
You owe to it: Be not afraid to break
With Murderers, and Traitors, for the saving
A Life so near and necessary to you,
As is your Countries. Think but on her Right.
No Child can be too natural to his Parent.
She is our Common Mother, and doth challenge
The prime part of us; do not stop, but give it.
He that is void of Fear, may soon be just:
And no Religion binds Men to be Traitors.
   Ful. My Lord, he understands it, and will follow
Your saving Counsel; but his Shame yet stays him.
I know that he is coming.   Cur. Do you know it?
   Ful. Yes, let me speak with you.
   Cur. O, you are —   Ful. What am I?

[column break]

   Cur. Speak not so loud.
   Ful. I am what you should be.
Come, do you think I'ld walk in any Plot
Where Madam Sempronia should take place of me,
And Fulvia come i' the Rere, or o' the by?
That I would be her Second, in a Business,
Though it might vantage me all the Sun sees?
It was a silly phant'sie of yours. Apply
Your self to me, and the Consul, and be wise;
Follow the Fortune I ha' put you into:
You may be something this way, and with safety.
   Cic. Nay, I must tolerate no Whisperings, Lady.
   Ful. Sir, you may hear. I tell him, in the way
Wherein he was, how hazardous his Course was.
   Cic. How hazardous? How certain to all ruin.
Did he, or do yet any of them imagine
The Gods would sleep, to such a Stygian Practice,
Against that Commonwealth which they have founded
With so much Labour, and like Care have kept,
Now neer seven hundred Years? It is a Madness,
Wherewith Heaven blinds 'em, when it would confound 'em,
That they should think it. Come, my Curius,
I see your Nature's right; you shall no more
Be mention'd with them: I will call you mine,
And trouble this good Shame no farther. Stand
Firm for your Country, and become a Man
Honour'd and lov'd. It were a noble Life,
To be found dead, embracing her. Know you
What Thanks, what Titles, what Rewards the Senate
Will heap upon you, certain, for your Service?
Let not a desperate Action more engage you,
Than Safety should; and wicked Friendship force,
What Honesty and Vertue cannot work.
   Ful. He tells you right, sweet Friend; 'tis saving Counsel.
   Cur. Most noble Consul, I am yours, and hers;
I mean, my Countries: you have form'd me new,
Inspiring me with what I should be truly.
And I entreat, my Faith may not seem cheaper
For springing out of Penitence.   Cic. Good Curius,
It shall be dearer rather; and because
I'ld make it such, hear how I trust you more.
Keep still you former Face, and mix again
With these lost Spirits; run all their Mazes with 'em;
For such are Treasons: Find their Windings out,
And subtle Turnings, watch their Snakie Ways,
Through Brakes and Hedges, into Woods of Darkness,
Where they are fain to creep upon their Breasts
In Paths ne'er trod by Men, but Wolves and Panthers.
Learn, beside Catiline, Lentulus, and those
Whose Names I have; what new ones they draw in;
Who else are likely; what those Great ones are
They do not name; what ways they mean to take;
And whither their Hopes point, to War, or Ruine
By some Surprise. Explore all their Intents;
And what you find my profit the Republick,
Acquaint me with it, either by your self,
Or this your vertuous Friend, on whom I lay
The Care of urging you. I'll see that Rome
Shall prove a thankful and a bounteous Mother.
Be secret as the Night.   Cur. And constant, Sir.
   Cic. I do not doubt it; though the time cut off
All Vows. The Dignity of Truth is lost
With much protesting. Who is there! This way,
Lest you be seen and met. And when you come,
Be this your Token to this Fellow. Light 'em.

[He whispers with him.

O Rome, in what a Sickness art thou fall'n!
How dangerous and deadly! when thy Head
Is drown'd in Sleep, and all thy Body Fev'ry!
No Noise, no Pulling, no Vexation wakes thee,
Thy Lethargy is such: or if, by chance,
Thou heav'st thy Eye lids up, thou dost forget
Sooner than thou wert told, thy proper Danger.
I did unreverently, to blame the Gods,

K k Who

250	Catiline.

Who wake for thee, though thou snore for thy self.
Is it not strange, thou should'st be so diseas'd,
And so secure? But more, that the first Symptoms
Of such a Malady should not rise out
From any worthy Member, but a base
And common Strumpet, worthless to be nam'd
A Hair, or part of thee? Think, think, hereafter,
What thy needs were, when thou must use such Means:
And lay it to thy Breast, how much the Gods
Upbraid thy foul neglect of them, by making
So vile a thing the Author of thy Safety.
They could have wrought by nobler ways, have struck
Thy Foes with forked Lightning, or ramm'd Thunder;
Thrown Hills upon 'em, in the Act; have sent
Death, like a Damp, to all their Families;
Or caus'd their Consciences to burst 'em. But
When they will shew thee what thou art, and make
A scornful difference 'twixt their Power and thee,
They help thee by such Aids as Geese and Harlots.
How now? What answer? Is he come? Lic. Your Brother
Will streight be here; and your Colleague Antonius
Said, coldly, he would follow me. Cic. I, that
Troubles me somewhat, and is worth my fear.
He is a Man 'gainst whom I must provide,
That (as he'll do no good) he do no harm.
He, though he be not of the Plot, will like it,
And wish it should proceed: for, unto Men
Prest with their Wants, all Change is ever welcom.
I must with Offices and Patience win him,
Make him by Art, that which he is not born,
A Friend unto the Publick, and bestow
The Province on him, which is by the Senate
Decreed to me; that Benefit will bind him.
'Tis well, if some Men will do well for Price:
So few are vertuous when the Reward's away.
Nor must I be unmindful of my Private,
For which I have call'd my Brother, and the Tribunes,
My Kinsfolk, and my Clients, to be near me.
He that stands up 'gainst Traitors, and their Ends,
Shall need a double Guard, of Law, and Friends:
Especially in such an envious State,
That sooner will accuse the Magistrate,
Than the Delinquent; and will rather grieve
The Treason is not acted, than believe.

Cćsar, Catiline.

He Night grows on, and you are for your Meeting:
I'll therefore end in few. Be resolute,
And put your Enterprise in act. The more
Actions of depth and danger are consider'd,
The less assuredly they are perform'd.
And thence it hapneth, that the bravest Plots
(Not executed streight) have been discover'd.
Say, you are constant, or another, a third,
Or more; there may be yet one wretched Spirit,
With whom the fear of Punishment shall work
'Bove all the thoughts of Honour and Revenge.
You are not now to think what's best to do,
As in Beginnings; but what must be done,
Being thus entred; and slip no advantage
That may secure you. Let 'em call it Mischief:
When it is past, and prosper'd, 'twill be Vertue.
Th'are petty Crimes are punish'd, great rewarded.
Nor must you think of Peril, since Attempts
Begun with Danger, still do end with Glory;
And, when Need spurs, Despair will be call'd Wisdom.
Less ought the care of Men or Fame to fright you;
For they that win, do seldom receive shame
Of Victory, how e'er it be atehiev'd;
And Vengeance, least. For who, besieg'd with Wants,
Would stop at Death, or any thing beyond it?
Come, there was never any great thing yet
Aspired, but by Violence or Fraud:

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And he that sticks (for folly of a Conscience)
To reach it —   Cat. Is a good Religious Fool.
   Cćs. A superstitious Slave, and will die Beast.
Good night. You know what Crassus thinks, and I,
By this. Prepare you Wings as large as Sails,
To cut through Air, and leave no Print behind you.
A Serpent, e'er he comes to be a Dragon,
Does eat a Bat; and so must you a Consul,
That watches. What you do, do quickly, Sergius.
You shall not stir for me.   Cat. Excuse me. Lights there.
   Cćs. By no means.
   Cat. Stay then. All good thoughts to Cćsar.
And like to Crassus.
   Cćs. Mind but your Friends Counsels.

Catiline, Aurelia, Lecca.

R I will bear no Mind. How now, Aurelia?
Are your Confederates come? the Ladies?   Aur. Yes.
   Cat. And is Sempronia there?
   Aur. She is.   Cat. That's well.
She has a sulphrous Spirit, and will take
Light at a Spark. Break with them, gentle Love,
About the drawing as many of their Husbands
Into the Plot, as can; if not, to rid 'em.
That'll be the easier practice unto some,
Who have been tir'd with 'em long. Sollicit
Their Aids for Money, and their Servants help,
In firing of the City at the time
Shall be design'd. Promise 'em States, and Empires,
And Men, for Lovers, made of better Clay
Than ever the old Porter Titan knew.
Who's that? O, Porcius Lecca! are they met?
   Lec. They are all here.
   Cat. Love, you have your Instructions:
I'll trust you with the Stuff you have to work on.
You'll form it? Porcius, fetch the Silver Eagle
I ga' you in charge; and pray 'em they will enter.

Catiline, Cethegus, Curius, Lentulus, Vargunteius, Longinus,
Gabinius, Ceparius, Autronius, &c.

Friends, your Faces glad me. This will be
Our last, I hope, of Consultation.
   Cet. So it had need.   Cur. We lose Occasion daily.
   Cat. I, and our Means; whereof one wounds me most
That was the fairest: Piso is dead in Spain.
   Cet. As we are here.   Lon. And, as 'tis thought, by env
Of Pompey's Followers.   Len. He too's coming back
Now out of Asia.   Cat. Therefore, what we intend,
We must be swift in. Take your Seats, and hear.
I have already sent Septimius
Into the Picene Territory, and Julius,
To raise Force for us in Apulia;
Manlius at Fesulć is (by this time) up,
With the old needy Troops that follow'd Sylla:
And all do but expect when we we will give
The Blow at home. Behold this Silver Eagle,
'Twas Marius Standard in the Cimbrian War,
Fatal to Rome; and, as our Augures tell me,
Shall still be so: for which one ominous Cause,
I have kept it safe, and done it sacred Rites,
As to a Godhead, in a Chappel built
Of purpose to it. Pledge then all your Hands,
To follow it, with Vows of Death and Ruine,
Struck silently, and home. So Waters speak
When they run deepest. Now's the time, this year,
The twentieth from the firing of the Capitol,
As fatal too to Rome, by all Predictions;
And in which honour'd Lentulus must rise
A King, if he pursue it.   Cur. If he do not,
He is not worthy the great Destiny.
   Len. It is too great for me; but what the Gods
And their great Loves decree me, I must not

Seem

Catiline.

251

Seem careless of.   Cat. No, nor we envious.
We have enough beside; all Gallia, Belgia,
Greece, Spain, and Africk.   Cur. I, and Asia too,
Now Pompey is returning.   Cat. Noblest Romans,
Me thinks our Looks are not so quick and high
As they were wont.
   Cur. No? whose is not?   Cat. We have
No Anger in our Eyes, no Storm, no Lightning:
Our Hate is spent, and fum'd away in Vapour,
Before our Hands be at work. I can accuse
Not any one, but all, of slackness.   Cet. Yes,
And be your self such, while you do it.   Cat. Ha?
'Tis sharply answer'd, Caius.   Cet. Truly, truly.
   Len. Come, let us each one know his part to do,
And then be accus'd. Leave these untimely Quarrels.
   Cur. I would there were more Romes than one to ruin.
   Cet. More Romes? More Worlds.
   Cur. Nay then, more Gods, and Natures,
If they took part.   Len. When shall the time be, first?
   Cat. I think, the Saturnals.   Cet. 'Twill be too long.
   Cat. They are not now far off, 'tis not a Month.
   Cet. A Week, a Day, an Hour is too far off:
Now were the fittest time.   Cat. We ha' not laid
All things so safe and ready.   Cet. While we are laying,
We shall all lie, and grow to Earth. Would I
Were nothing in it, if not now. These things
They should be done, e'er thought.
   Cat. Nay, now your Reason
Forsakes you, Caius. Think but what commodity
That time will minister; the Cities Custom
Of being then in Mirth and Feast —   Len. Loos'd whole
In Pleasure and Security —   Aut. Each House
Resolv'd in Freedom —   Cur. Every Slave a Master —
   Lon. And they too no mean Aids —
   Cur. Made from their hope
Of Liberty —   Len. Or hate unto their Lords.
   Var. 'Tis sure, there cannot be a time found out
More apt and natural.   Len. Nay, good Cethegus,
VVhy do your Passions now disturb our Hopes?
   Cet. VVhy do your Hopes delude our Certainties?
   Cat. You must lend him his way. Think, for the Order,
And Process of it.   Lon. Yes.   Len. I like not Fire;
'Twill too much waste my City.   Cat. VVere it Embers,
There will be VVealth enough, rak't out of them,
To spring anew. It must be Fire, or nothing.
   Lon. VVhat else should fright or terrifie 'em?   Var. True.
In that Confusion, must be the chief Slaughter.
   Cur. Then we shall kill 'em bravest.   Cep. And in heaps.
   Aut. Strew Sacrifices.   Cur. Make the Earth an Altar.
   Lon. And Rome the Fire.   Lec. 'Twill be a noble Night.
   Var. And worth all Sylla's Days.
   Cur. VVhen Husbands, VVives,
Grandsires, and Nephews, Servants, and their Lords,
Virgins, and Priests, the Infant, and the Nurse,
Go all to Hell together in a Fleet.
   Cat. I would have you, Longinus, and Statilius,
To take the Charge o' the Firing, which must be
At a Sign given with a Trumpet, done
In twelve chief Places of the City at once.
The Flax and Sulphur are already laid
In at Cethegus House; so are the VVeapons.
Gabinius, you, with other Force, shall stop
The Pipes and Conduits, and kill those that come
For VVater.   Cur. VVhat shall I do?   Cat. All will have
Employment, fear not: Ply the Execution.
   Cur. For that, trust me, and Cethegus.   Cat. I will be
At hand, with the Army, to meet those that scape:
And Lentulus, begirt you Pompey's House,
To seise his sons alive; for they are they
Must make our peace with him. All else cut off,
As Tarquin did the Poppy-heads, or Mowers
A Field of Thistles, or else, up, as Plows
Do barren Lands, and strike together Flints
And Clods, th' ungrateful Senate and the People;

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Till no Rage gone before, or coming after,
May weigh with yours, though Horrour leapt her self
Into the Scale; but, in your violent Acts,
The fall of Torrents, and the noise of Tempests,
The boyling of Carybdis, the Seas wildness,
The eating force of Flames, and wings of VVinds,
Be all out-wrought by your transcendent Furies.
It had been done e'er this, had I been Consul;
We had had no stop, no let.   Len. How find you Antonius?
   Cat. Th' other has won him, lost: that Cicero
VVas born to be my opposition,
And stands in all our ways.   Cur. Remove him first.
   Cet. May that yet be done sooner?
   Cat. VVould it were done.
   Cur. Var. I'll do't.
   Cet. It is my Province; none usurp it.
   Len. What are your Means?
   Cet. Enquire not. He shall die.
Shall, was too slowly said. He's dying. That
Is yet too slow. He's dead.   Cat. Brave, only Roman,
Whose So