Then come! Oh, come--and let us heed the call.

CATILINE. What do you mean, my sweet enthusiast?

FURIA. Come,--let us leave this place, flee far away,
And seek a new and better fatherland.
Here is the spirit's lofty pride repressed;
Here baseness smothers each auspicious spark
Ere it can break into a burning flame.
Come, let us fly;--lo, to the free-born mind
The world's wide compass is a fatherland!

CATILINE. Oh, irresistibly you lure me on--

FURIA. Come, let us use the present moment then!
High o'er the hills, beyond the sea's expanse,--
Far, far from Rome we first will stay our journey.
Thousands of friends will follow you outright;
In foreign lands we shall a home design;
There shall we rule; 'twill there be brought to light
That no hearts ever beat as yours and mine.

CATILINE. Oh, wonderful!--But flee? Why must we flee?
Here too our love for freedom can be nourished;
Here also is a field for thought and action,
As vast as any that your soul desires.

FURIA. Here, do you say? Here, in this paltry Rome,
Where naught exists but thraldom and oppression?
Ah, Lucius, are you likewise one of those