gore!
kindle your altars on the downfallen Capitol! and build your temples on
the wreck of Empire! Ha! do you start? and does some touch of shame redden
the sallow cheeks that courage had left bloodless? and do ye grasp your
daggers, and rear your drooping heads? are ye men, once again? Why should
ye not? what do ye see, what hear, whereat to falter? What oracle, what
portent? Now, by the Gods! methought they spoke of victory and glory. Once
more, what do ye fear, or wish? What, in the name of Hecate and Hades!
What do ye wait for?"

"A leader!" answered the rash Cethegus, excited now even beyond the bounds
of ordinary rashness. "A day, a place, a signal!"

"Have them, then, all," replied the other, still half scornfully. "Lo! I
am here to lead; the field of Mars will give a place; the consular
elections an occasion; the blood of Cicero a signal!"

"Be it so!" instantly replied Cethegus; "be it so! thou hast spoken, as
the times warrant, boldly; and upon my head be it, that our deeds shall
respond to thy daring words, with equal daring!"

And a loud hum of general assent succeeded to his stirring accents; and a
quick fluttering sound ran through the whole assemblage, as every man,
released from the constraint of deep and silent expectation, altered his
posture somewhat, and drew a long breath at the close. But the conspirator
paused not. He saw immediately the effect which had been made upon the
minds of all, by what had passed. He perceived the absolute necessity of
following that impulse up to action, before, by a revulsion no less sudden
than the late change from despondency to fierceness, their minds should
again subside into the lethargy of doubt and dismay.

"But say thou, Sergius," he continued, "how shall it be, and who shall
strike the blow that is to seal Rome's liberty, our vengeance?"

"First swear we!" answered Cataline. "Laeca, the eagle, and the bowl!"

"Lo! they are here, my Sergius," answered the master of the house, drawing
aside a piece of crimson drapery, which covered a small niche or recess in
the wall, and displaying by the movement a silver eagle, its pinions wide
extended, and its talons grasping a thunderbolt, placed on a pedestal,
under a small but exquisitely sculptured shrine of Parian marble. Before
the image there stood a votive lamp, fed by the richest oils, a mighty
bowl of silver half filled with the red Massic wine, and many _paterae_, or
sacrificial vessels of a yet richer meta