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er brief! There are some faults that should be shorn away with our
first beard. Make all reasonable allowance for boys. But Damasippus
frequents those debauches of the bagnios, and the painted signs,[460]
when of ripe age for war, for guarding Armenia[461] and Syria's rivers,
and the Rhine or Danube. His time of life qualifies him to guard the
emperor's person. Send then to Ostia![462] Cæsar--send! But look
for your general in some great tavern. You will find him reclining
with some common cut-throat; in a medley of sailors, and thieves,
and runaway slaves; among executioners and cheap coffin-makers,[463]
and the now silent drums of the priest of Cybele, lying drunk on his
back.[464] There there is equal liberty for all--cups in common--nor
different couch for any, or table set aloof from the herd. What
would you do, Ponticus, were it your lot to have a slave of such a
character? Why surely you would dispatch him to the Lucanian or Tuscan
bridewells.[465] But you, ye Trojugenæ! find excuses for yourselves,
and what would disgrace a cobbler[466] will be becoming in a Volesus
or Brutus!

What if we never produce examples so foul and shameful, that worse do
not yet remain behind! When all your wealth was squandered, Damasippus,
you let your voice for hire[467] to the stage,[468] to act the noisy
Phasma[469] of Catullus. Velox Lentulas acted Laureolus, and creditably
too. In my judgment he deserved crucifying in earnest. Nor yet can
you acquit the people themselves from blame. The brows of the people
are too hardened that sit[470] spectators of the buffooneries of the
patricians, listen to the Fabii with naked feet, and laugh at the
slaps on the faces of the Mamerci. What matters it at what price they
sell their lives: they sell them at no tyrant's compulsion,[471] «nor
hesitate[472] to do it even at the games of the prætor seated on
high.» Yet imagine the gladiator's sword[473] on one side, the stage
on the other. Which is the better alternative? Has any one so slavish
a dread of death as to become the jealous lover of Thymele,[474] the
colleague of the heavy Corinthus? Yet it is nothing to be wondered
at, if the emperor turn harper, that the nobleman should turn actor.
To crown all this, what is left but the amphitheatre?[475] And this
disgrace of the city you have as well--Gracchus[476] not fighting
equipped as a Mirmillo, with buckler or falchion (for he condemns--yes,
condemns and hates such an equipment). Nor does he conceal his face
beneath a helmet. See! he wields a trident. When he has cast without
effect the nets suspended from his poised right hand, he boldly lifts
his uncovered face to the spectators, and, easily to be recognized,
flees across the whole arena. We can not mistake the tunic,[477] since
the ribbon of gold reaches from his neck, and flutters in the breeze
from his high-peaked cap. Therefore the disgrace, which the Secutor
had to submit to, in being forced to fight with Gracchus, was worse
than any wound. Were the people allowed the uncontrolled exercise of
their votes, who could be found so abandoned as to hesitate to prefer
Seneca[478] to Nero? For whose punishment there should have been
prepared not a single ape[479] only, or one snake or sack.[480] "His
crime is matched by that of Orestes!"[481] But it is the motive cause
that gives the quality to the act. Since he, at the instigation of the
gods themselves, was the avenger of his father butchered in his cups.
But he neither imbrued his hands in Electra's blood, or that of his
Spartan wife; he mixed no aconite for his relations. Orestes never sang
on the stage; he never wrote "Troïcs." What, blacker crime was there
for Virginius'[482] arms to avenge, or Galba leagued with Vindex? In
all his tyranny, cruel and bloody as it was, what exploit did Nero[483]
achieve? These are the works, these the accomplishments of a high-born
prince--delighting to prostitute[484] his rank by disgraceful dancing
on a foreign stage, and earn the parsley of the Grecian crown. Array
the statues of your ancestors in the trophies of your voice. At
Domitius'[485] feet lay the long train of Thyestes, or Antigone, or
Menalippe's mask, and hang your harp[486] on the colossus of marble.

What could any one find more noble than thy birth, Catiline, or
thine, Cethegus! Yet ye prepared arms to be used by night, and flames
for our houses and temples, as though ye had been the sons of the
Braccati,[487] or descendants of the Senones. Attempting what one would
be justified in punishing by the pitched shirt.[488] But the consul is
on the watch[489] and restrains your bands. He whom you sneer at as
a novus[490] homo from Arpinum, of humble birth, and but lately made
a municipal knight at Rome, disposes every where his armed guards to
protect the terrified people, and exerts himself in every quarter.
Therefore the peaceful toga, within the walls, bestowed on him such
honors and renown as not even Octavius bore away from Leucas[491]
or the plains of Thessaly, with sword reeking with unintermitted
slaughter. But Rome owned him for a parent. Rome, when unfettered,[492]
hailed Cicero as father of his father-land.

Another native of Arpinum was wont to ask for his wages when wearied
with another's plow on the Volscian hills. After that, he had the
knotted vine-stick[493] broken about his head, if he lazily fortified
the camp with sluggard axe. Yet _he_ braved the Cimbri, and the
greatest perils of the state, and alone protected the city in her
alarm. And therefore when the ravens, that had never lighted on bigger
carcasses,[494] flocked to the slaughtered heaps of Cimbrians slain,
his nobly-born colleague is honored with a laurel inferior to his.[495]

The souls of the Decii were plebeian, their very names plebeian. Yet
these are deemed by the infernal deities and mother Earth a fair
equivalent for the whole legions, and all the forces of the allies, and
all the flower of Latium. For the Decii[496] were more highly valued by
_them_ than all they died to save!

It was one born from a slave[497] that won the robe and diadem and
fasces of Quirinus, that last of good kings! They that were for
loosening the bolts of the gates betrayed to the exiled tyrants, were
the sons of the consul himself! men from whom we might have looked for
some glorious achievement in behalf of liberty when in peril; some act
that Mucius' self, or Cocles, might admire; and the maiden that swam
across[498] the Tiber, then the limit of our empire. He that divulged
to the fathers the secret treachery was a slave,[499] afterward to
be mourned for by all the Roman matrons: while they suffer the
well-earned punishment of the scourge, and the axe,[500] then first
used by Rome since she became republican.

I had rather that Thersites[501] were your sire, provided you resembled
Æacides and could wield the arms of Vulcan, than that Achilles should
beget you to be a match to Thersites.

And yet, however far you go back, however far you trace your name, you
do but derive y

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