FULL CICERO 1-24

Quo usque tandem abutere, Catilina, patientiā nostrā? quam diu etiam furor iste tuus nos eludet? quem ad finem sese effrenata iactabit audacia?

How long, Catiline, will you abuse our patience? How much longer will your madness mock us? To what end will your unrestrained boldness throw itself about?

Nihilne te nocturnum praesidium Palati, nihil urbis vigiliae, nihil timor populī, nihil concursus bonorum omnium movērunt?

Do the night guard on the Palatine, the city patrols, the fear of the people, and the gathering of all good men mean nothing to you?

Nihil hic munitissimus habendi senatus locus, nihil horum ora vultusque movērunt?

Does this well-fortified meeting place of the Senate, or the faces and looks of these men, not move you at all?

Patere tua consilia non sentis, constrictam iam horum omnium scientia teneri coniurationem tuam non vides?

Don’t you realize your plans are exposed, and that your conspiracy is already held in check by the knowledge of everyone here?

Quid proxima, quid superiore nocte egeris, ubi fueris, quos convocaveris, quid consilii ceperis, quem nostrum ignorare arbitraris?

What you did last night and the night before, where you were, whom you called together, what plan you made—do you think any of us are unaware of it?

O tempora, o mores! Senatus haec intellegit, consul videt; hic tamen vivit. Vivit? immo vero etiam in senatum venit, fit publici consili particeps.

Oh the times, oh the morals! The Senate knows this, the consul sees it—yet this man lives. Lives? In fact, he even comes into the Senate and takes part in public decisions.

Notat et designat oculis ad caedem unum quemque nostrum. Nos autem, fortes viri, satis facere rei publicae videmur, si istius furorem ac tela vitamus.

He marks each one of us out for death with his eyes. But we—brave men, supposedly—think we do enough for the Republic if we simply avoid his madness and weapons.

Ad mortem te, Catilina, duci iussu consulis iam pridem oportebat, in te conferri pestem quam tu in nos omnes iam diu machinaris

By order of the consul, Catiline, you should have been led to death long ago; the destruction you’ve long plotted against all of us should have been brought back on you.

An vero vir amplissimus, P. Scipio, pontifex maximus, Ti. Gracchum mediocriter labefactantem statum rei publicae privatus interfecit?

Was it not so? The noble man Publius Scipio, the high priest, killed Tiberius Gracchus, who was only slightly weakening the state, though he was just a private citizen.

Catilinam orbem terrae caede atque incendiis vastare cupientem nos consules perferemus?

And shall we consuls tolerate Catiline, who wishes to destroy the whole world with slaughter and fire?

Nam illa nimis antiqua praetereo, quod C. Servilius Ahala Sp. Maelium novis rebus studentem manu sua occidit.

I’ll even skip the older example—that Gaius Servilius Ahala killed Spurius Maelius with his own hand when he sought revolution.

Fuit, fuit ista quondam in hac re publica virtus ut viri fortes acrioribus suppliciis civem perniciosum quam acerbissimum hostem coercerent. Habemus senatus consultum in te, Catilina, vehemens et grave; non deest rei publicae consilium neque auctoritas huius ordinis: nos, nos, dico aperte, consules desumus.

Once, there was in this Republic a courage such that brave men punished a dangerous citizen more harshly than the fiercest enemy. We have a Senate decree against you, Catiline, strong and severe; the Republic does not lack plan or authority—it is we, the consuls, who fail.