CATILINE.
Silence!
Stay here,--or follow! But my heart is cold
To tears and lamentations.--Friends, behold
How bright the full moon in the west declines!
When next that full moon in its orient shines,
An avalanche of fire shall sweep the state
And all its golden glory terminate.
A thousand years from now, when it shall light
Mere crumbling ruins in the desert night,--
One pillar in the dust of yonder dome
Shall tell the weary wanderer: Here stood Rome!
[He rushes out to the right; all follow him.]