[10]
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?
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M. Tullius Cicero. The Orations of Marcus Tullius Cicero, literally translated by C. D. Yonge, B. A. London. Henry G. Bohn, York Street, Covent Garden. 1856.
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