Who labored hard and was my one support.
Alas,--in prison now he's held for debt.
And not a ray of hope--. Oh, help me, master!

[Kneeling.]

THE SOLDIER. If but a penny! I have gone on foot
From house to house; each door is long since closed.
I know not what to do--

CATILINE. The paltry knaves!
A picture this is of the many's want.
Thus they reward the old brave company.
No longer gratitude is found in Rome!
Time was I might have wished in righteous wrath
To punish them with sword and crimson flames;
But tender words have just been spoken here;
My soul is moved; I do not wish to punish;--
To ease misfortune likewise is a deed.--
Take this, old warrior;--clear with this your debt.

[He hands him the purse with the gold.]

THE SOLDIER. [Rising.]
O gracious lord,--dare I believe your words?

CATILINE. Yes; but be quick, old man; go free your son.

[The SOLDIER goes hurriedly out.]