[A room in CATILINE's house with a colonnade in the rear; a lamp lights up the room.]
[CATILINE paces the floor back and forth; LENTULUS and CETHEGUS are with him.]
CATILINE. No, no! I say, you do not understand
Yourselves what you demand of me. Should I
Turn traitor and incite a civil war,--
Besmear my hand with Roman blood? No, no!
I'll never do it! Let the entire state
Condemn me if--
LENTULUS. You will not, Catiline?
CATILINE. No.
LENTULUS. Tell me,--have you nothing to avenge?
No insult? No one here you fain would strike?
CATILINE. Let him who will avenge; I shall not stir.
Yet silent scorn is likewise a revenge;--
And that alone shall be enough.
CETHEGUS. Aha,--
Our visit was, I see, inopportune.
Yet doubtless will the morrow bring you back
To other thoughts.
CATILINE. But why the morrow?
CETHEGUS. There are mysterious rumors in the air.
A vestal recently was led to death--
CATILINE. [Surprised.]
A vestal,--say you? Ah, what do you mean?
LENTULUS. Why, yes, a vestal. Many people murmur--
CATILINE. What do they murmur?
CETHEGUS. That in this dark affair
You are not altogether innocent.
CATILINE. This they believe of me?
LENTULUS. Such is the rumor;
Of course,--to us, to all your good old friends,
Such talk is trifling and of no account;--
The world, however, judges more severely.
CATILINE. [Deep in thought.] And is she dead?
CETHEGUS. Undoubtedly she is.
An hour's confinement in the convict tomb
Is quite enough--
LENTULUS. That is not our affair.
It was not therefore that we spoke of her.
But hear me, Catiline! Bethink yourself.
You sought the consulate; and all your welfare
Hung on that single fragile thread of hope.
Now is it sundered; everything is lost.
CATILINE. [Still deep in thought.]
"Vengeance you have invoked on your own head!"
CETHEGUS. Shake off these useless thoughts; they profit naught;
Act like a man; still can this fight be won;
A bold resolve now--; you have friends enough;
Speak but the word, and we shall follow you.--
You are not tempted? Answer!
CATILINE. No, I say!
And why are you so eager to conspire?
Be honest! Are you driven by thirst for freedom?
Is it in order to renew Rome's splendor
That you would ruin all?
LENTULUS. Indeed, 'tis not;
Yet surely is the hope of personal greatness
Sufficient motive for our enterprise!
CETHEGUS. And means enough to taste the joys of life
Are not, in truth, to be so lightly scorned.
That is my motive;--I am not ambitious.
CATILINE. I knew it. Only mean and paltry motives,
The hope of private vantage, urge you on.
No, no, my friends; I aimed at nobler things!
True, I have sought with bribes and promises
To seize ere now the consulate, and yet
My plan was greater and comprised much more
Than means like these would point to. Civic freedom,
The welfare of the state,--these were my aims.
Men have misjudged, appearances belied me;
My fate has willed it so. It must so be!
CETHEGUS. True; but the thought of all your many friends
Whom you can save from ruin and disgrace--?
You know, we shall ere long be driven to take
The beggars' staff because of our wild living.
CATILINE. Then stop in season; that is my resolve.
LENTULUS. What, Catiline,--now you intend to change
Your mode of life? Ha, ha! you surely jest?
CATILINE. I am in earnest,--by the mighty gods!
CETHEGUS. Then there is nothing we can do with him.
Come, Lentulus, the others we'll inform
What answer he has given. We shall find
The merry company with Bibulus.
CATILINE. With Bibulus? How many a merry night
We have caroused at Bibulus' table!
Now is the tempest of my wild life ended;
Ere dawns the day I shall have left the city.
LENTULUS. What is all this?
CETHEGUS. You mean to go away?
CATILINE. This very night my wife and I together
Shall bid farewell to Rome forevermore.
In quiet Gaul we two shall found a home;--
The land I cultivate shall nourish us.
CETHEGUS. You will forsake the city, Catiline?
CATILINE. I will; I must! Disgrace here weighs me down.
Courage I have to bear my poverty,
But in each Roman face to read disdain
And frank contempt--! No, no; that is too much!
In Gaul I'll live in quiet solitude;
There shall I soon forget my former self,
Dull all my longings for the greater things,
And as the vaguest dream recall the past.
LENTULUS. Then fare you well; may fortune follow you!
CETHEGUS. Remember us with kindness, Catiline,
As we shall you remember! To our brothers
We will relate this new and strange resolve.
CATILINE. Then give them all a brother's hearty greeting!
[LENTULUS and CETHEGUS leave.]
[AURELIA has entered from the side, hut-stops frightened at the sight of those who are leaving; when they are gone she approaches CATILINE.]
AURELIA. [Gently reprimanding.]
Again these stormy comrades in your house?
O Catiline--!
CATILINE. This was their final visit.
I bade them all farewell. Now every bond
Forevermore is broken that bound me fast
And fettered me to Rome.
AURELIA. I've gathered up
Our bit of property. Not much perhaps;--
Yet, Catiline, enough for our contentment.
CATILINE. [Engrossed in thought.]
More than enough for me who squandered all.
AURELIA. Oh, brood no more on things we can not change;--
Forget what--
CATILINE. Happy he who could forget,--
Who could the memory tear from out his soul,
The many hopes, the goal of all desires.
Ah, time is needed ere I reach that state;
But I shall struggle--
AURELIA. I shall help you strive;
You shall be comforted for all your loss.
Yet we must leave as soon as possible.
Here life calls to you with a tempter's voice.
Is it not so,--we go this very night?
CATILINE. Yes, yes,--we leave this very night, Aurelia!
AURELIA. The little money left I've gathered up;
And for the journey it will be enough.
CATILINE. Good! I shall sell my sword and buy a spade.
What value henceforth is a sword to me?
AURELIA. You clear the land, and I shall till the soil.
Around our home will grow in floral splendor
A hedge of roses, sweet forget-me-nots,
The silent tokens of a chastened soul,
When as some youthful comrade you can greet
Each memory recurrent of the past.
CATILINE. That time, Aurelia? Ah, beloved, I fear--
That hour lies in a distant future's keeping.
CATILINE. [In a milder tone.]
But go, dear wife, and, while you may, repose.
Soon after midnight we shall start our journey.
The city then is lapped in deepest slumber,
And none shall guess our hidden destination.
The first glow in the morning sky shall find us
Far--far away; there in the laurel grove
We'll rest ourselves upon the velvet grass.
AURELIA. A new life opens up before us both--
Richer in happiness than this that's ended.
Now will I go. An hour's quiet rest
Will give me strength--. Good-night, my Catiline!
[She embraces him and goes out.]
CATILINE. [Gazes after her.]
Now is she gone! And I--what a relief!
Now can I cast away this wearisome
Hypocrisy, this show of cheerfulness,
Which least of all is found within my heart.
She is my better spirit. She would grieve
Were she to sense my doubt. I must dissemble.
Yet shall I consecrate this silent hour
To contemplation of my wasted life.--
This lamp,--ah, it disturbs my very thoughts;--
Dark it must be here,--dark as is my soul!
[He puts out the light; the moon shines through the pillars in the rear.]
CATILINE.
Too light,--yes, still too light! And yet, no matter;--
The pallid moonlight here does well befit
The twilight and the gloom that shroud my soul,--
Have ever shrouded all my earthly ways.
CATILINE. Hm, Catiline, then is this day your last;
Tomorrow morning you will be no longer
The Catiline you hitherto have been.
Distant in barren Gaul my life shall run
Its course, unknown as is a forest stream.--
Now am I wakened from those many visions
Of power, of greatness, of a life of deeds;--
They vanished like the dew; in my dark soul
They struggled long and died,--unseen of men.
CATILINE. Ah, it is not this dull and drowsy life,
Far from all mundane tumult, that affrights me.
If only for a moment I could shine,
And blaze in splendor like a shooting star,--
If only by a glorious deed I could
Immortalize the name of Catiline
With everlasting glory and renown,--
Then gladly should I, in the hour of triumph,
Forsake all things,--flee to a foreign strand;--
I'd plunge the dagger in my exiled heart,
Die free and happy; for I should have lived!
CATILINE. But oh,--to die without first having lived.
Can that be possible? Shall I so die?
[With uplifted hands.]
CATILINE. A hint, oh angry powers,--that it is
My fate to disappear from life forgotten,
Without a trace!
FURIA. [Outside behind the pillars.] It is not, Catiline!
CATILINE. [Taken aback.]
Who speaks? What warning voice is this I hear?
A spirit voice from out the underworld!
FURIA. [Comes forward in the moonlight.] I am your shadow.
CATILINE. [Terrified.] What,--the vestal's ghost!
FURIA. Deep must your soul have sunk if you recoil
From me!
CATILINE. Speak! Have you risen from the grave
With hatred and with vengeance to pursue me?
FURIA. Pursue you,--did you say? I am your shadow.
I must be with you wheresoe'er you go.
[She comes nearer.]
CATILINE. She lives! O gods,--then it is she,--no other,
No disembodied ghost.
FURIA. Or ghost or not,--
It matters little; I must follow you.
CATILINE. With mortal hate!
FURIA. Hate ceases in the grave,
As love and all the passions do that flourish
Within an earthly soul. One thing alone
In life and death remains unchangeable.
CATILINE. And what? Say forth!
FURIA. Your fate, my Catiline!
CATILINE. Only the gods of wisdom know my fate,--
No human being.
FURIA. Yet I know your fate.
I am your shadow;--strange, mysterious ties
Bind us together.
CATILINE. Bonds of hatred.
FURIA. No!
Rose ever spirit from the dankest grave
For hate and vengeance? Listen, Catiline!
The rivers of the underworld have quenched
Each earthly flame that raged within my breast.
As you behold me here, I am no longer
The stormy Furia,--wild and passionate,--
Whom once you loved--
CATILINE. You do not hate me then?
FURIA. Ah, now no more. When in the tomb I stood,--
And faltered on the path that separates
This life from death, at any moment ready
To greet the underworld,--lo, seized me then
An eerie shuddering; I know not what--;
I felt in me a mystic transformation;--
Away flowed hate, revenge, my very soul;
Each memory vanished and each earthly longing;--
Only the name of "Catiline" remains
Written in fiery letters on my heart.
CATILINE. Ah, wonderful! No matter who you are,--
A human form, a shadow from the dead,--
There lies withal a dreadful fascination
In your dark eyes, in every word you speak.
FURIA. Your mind is strong as mine; yet you give up,
Disheartened and irresolute, each hope
Of triumph and dominion. You forsake
The battlefield, where all your inmost plans
Could grow and blossom forth into achievement.
CATILINE. I must! Inexorable fate decrees it!
FURIA. Your fate? Why were you given a hero's strength,--
If not to struggle with what you call fate?
CATILINE. Oh, I have fought enough! Was not my life
A constant battle? What are my rewards?
Disgrace and scorn--!
FURIA. Ah, you are fallen low!
You struggle towards a high and daring goal,
Are eager to attain it; yet you fear
Each trifling hindrance.
CATILINE. Fear is not the reason.
The goal I sought is unattainable;--
The whole was but a fleeting dream of youth.
FURIA. Now you deceive yourself, my Catiline!
You hover still about that single project;--
Your soul is noble,--worthy of a ruler,--
And you have friends--. Ah, wherefore hesitate?
CATILINE. [Meditating.]
I shall--? What do you mean--? With civil blood--?
FURIA. Are you a man,--yet lack a woman's courage?
Have you forgot that nimble dame of Rome,
Who sought the throne straight over a father's corpse?
I feel myself a Tullia now; but you--?
Scorn and despise yourself, O Catiline!
CATILINE. Must I despise myself because my soul
No longer harbors selfish aspirations?
FURIA. You stand here at a cross-road in your life;
Yonder a dull, inactive course awaits you,--
A half-way something, neither sleep nor death;--
Before you, on the other hand, you see
A sovereign's throne. Then choose, my Catiline!
CATILINE. You tempt me and allure me to destruction.
FURIA. Cast but the die,--and in your hand is placed
Forevermore the welfare of proud Rome.
Glory and might your silent fate conceals,
And yet you falter,--dare not lift a hand!
You journey yonder to the forests, where
Each longing that you cherished will be quenched.
Ah, tell me, Catiline, is there no trace
Of thirst for glory left within your heart?
And must this princely soul, for triumphs born,
Vanish unknown in yonder nameless desert?
Hence, then! But know that thus you lose forever
What here you could by daring deeds attain.
CATILINE. Go on, go on!
FURIA. With trembling and with fear
The future generations will recall
Your fate. Your life was all a daring game;--
Yet in the lustre of atonement it would shine,
Known to all men, if with a mighty hand
You fought your way straight through this surging
throng,--
If the dark night of thraldom through your rule
Gave way before a new-born day of freedom,--
If at some time you—
CATILINE. Hold! Ah, you have touched
The string that quivers deepest in my soul.
Your every word sounds like a ringing echo
Of what my heart has whispered day and night.
FURIA. Now, Catiline, I know you once again!
CATILINE. I shall not go! You have recalled to life
My youthful zeal, my manhood's full-grown longings.
Yes, I shall be a light to fallen Rome,--
Daze them with fear like some erratic star!
You haughty wretches,--you shall soon discover
You have not humbled me, though for a time
I weakened in the heat of battle!
FURIA. Listen!
Whatever be the will of fate,--whatever
The mighty gods decree, we must obey.
Just so! My hate is gone;--fate thus decreed,
And so it had to be! Give me your hand
In solemn compact!--Ah, you hesitate?
You will not?
CATILINE. Will--? I gaze upon your eyes:
They flash,--like lightning in the gloom of night.
Now did you smile! Just so I've often pictured
Nemesis--
FURIA. What? Herself you wish to see,--
Then look within. Have you forgot your oath?
CATILINE. No, I remember;--yet you seem to me
A Nemesis--
FURIA. I am an image born
From your own soul.
CATILINE. [Meditating.] What is all this you say?
I sense but vaguely what I fail to grasp;
I glimpse mysterious, strangely clouded visions,--
But can not understand. I grope in darkness!
FURIA. It must be dark here. Darkness is our realm;--
In darkness is our rule. Give me your hand
In solemn pledge!
CATILINE. [Wildly.] O lovely Nemesis,--
My shadow,--image of my very soul,--
Here is my hand in everlasting compact.
[He seizes her hand violently; she looks at him with a stern smile.]
FURIA. Now we can never part!
CATILINE. Ah, like a stream
Of fire your touch went coursing through my veins!
'Tis blood no more that flows, but fiery flames;--
My breast now cabins and confines my heart;
My sight grows dull. Soon shall a flaming sea
Illumine with its light the Roman state!
[He draws his sword and brandishes it.]
CATILINE. My sword! My sword! Do you see how it flashes?
Soon will it redden in their tepid blood!--
What change is this in me? My brow burns hot;
A multitude of visions flit before me.--
Vengeance it is,--triumph for all those dreams
Of greatness, regal power, and lasting fame.
My watch-word shall be: livid flames and death!
The capitol! Now first I am myself!
[He rushes out; FURIA follows him.]
* * * * *
[The inside of a dimly illumined tavern.]
[STATILIUS, GABINIUS, COEPARIUS, and other young ROMANS enter.]
STATILIUS. Here, comrades, we can while away the night;
Here we are safe; no one will overhear us.
GABINIUS. Ah, yes; now let us drink, carouse, enjoy!
Who knows how long it will be granted us?
STATILIUS. No, let us first await whatever tidings
Lentulus and Cethegus have for us.
GABINIUS. Bah, let them bring whatever news they will!
Meanwhile the wine is here; come, let us taste.
Quick, brothers, quick,--let's have a merry song!
[SERVANTS bring in wine and glasses.]
THE ASSEMBLED FRIENDS. (Sing.)
Bacchus, all praise to thee!
Joyful we raise to thee
Brimful the beaker!
Hail to thee, hail!
Wine, red and glowing,
Merrily flowing,
Drink of the wine-god,--
This be our song.
Gracious and friendly
Smiles father Liber;
Drunkenness waits us;
Clear is the wine.
Come, do not tarry!
Wine will make merry,
Joyful and airy,
Body and soul.
Thou above all the
Glittering bubbles,
Sparkling Falernian,
Glorious drink!
Courage and power,
These are your dower.
Gladsome the gift you
Bring to the soul.
Bacchus, all praise to thee!
Joyful we raise to thee
Brimful the beaker!
Hail to thee, hail!
Wine, red and glowing,
Merrily flowing,
Drink of the wine-god,--
This be our song.
[LENTULUS and CETHEGUS enter.]
LENTULUS. Cease all your song and merriment!
STATILIUS. What now?
Is Catiline not in your company?
GABINIUS. Surely he was quite willing?
COEPARIUS. Come, say forth!
What was his answer?
CETHEGUS. Ah, quite otherwise
Than we expected was his answer.
GABINIUS. Well?
LENTULUS. Well, all of our proposals he declined;--
He would not even hearken to our counsels.
STATILIUS. Is this the truth?
COEPARIUS. And wherefore would he not?
LENTULUS. In short, he will not. He forsakes his friends,--
Abandons us,--and leaves the city.
STATILIUS. What?
He leaves, you say?
CETHEGUS. 'Tis true;--he goes away
This very night. Yet,--blamed he can not be;
His ground was valid--
LENTULUS. Fear was his excuse!
In danger he forsakes us faithlessly.
GABINIUS. That is the friendship of our Catiline!
COEPARIUS. Never was Catiline faithless or afraid!
LENTULUS. And yet he leaves us now.
STATILIUS. Our hopes go with him.
Where's now the man to take the leadership?
COEPARIUS. He'll not be found; our plan we must forego.
LENTULUS. Not yet, not yet, my friends! First you shall hear
What I will say. Now what have we resolved?
That we should win at last by force of arms
What an unrighteous destiny denied.
Tyrants oppress us;--yet we wish to rule.
We suffer want;--yet wealth is our desire.
MANY VOICES. Yes, wealth and power! Wealth and power we want!
LENTULUS. Yes, yes; we chose a comrade as our chief,
On whom there was no doubt we could rely.
Our trust he fails and turns his back to danger.
Ah, brothers,--be not daunted. He shall learn
We can succeed without him. What we need
Is some one man, fearless and resolute,
To take the lead--
SOME. Well, name us such a man!
LENTULUS. And should I name him, and should he comeforth,--
Will you then straightway choose him as your leader?
SOME. Yes, we will choose him!
OTHERS. Yes, we will, we will!
STATILIUS. Then name him, friend!
LENTULUS. Suppose it were myself?
GABINIUS. Yourself?
COEPARIUS. You, Lentulus--!
SEVERAL. [In doubt.] You wish to lead us?
LENTULUS. I do.
CETHEGUS. But can you? Such a task requires
The strength and courage of a Catiline.
LENTULUS. I do not lack the courage, nor the strength.
Each to his task! Or will you now turn back,
Now when the moment seems most opportune?
'Tis now or never! All things prophesy
Success for us--
STATILIUS. Good;--we will follow you!
OTHERS. We'll follow you!
GABINIUS. Well, now that Catiline
Forsakes our cause, you are no doubt the man
To lead us in our enterprise.
LENTULUS. Then hear
What plan of action I have outlined. First--
[CATILINE enters hastily.]
CATILINE. Here, comrades, here I am!
ALL. Catiline!
LENTULUS. He?
Oh, damned--
CATILI