Lo! the deciding hour at last appears; The hour of every freeman's hopes and fears! Thou, Genius! guardian of the Roman name, O ever prompt tyrannic rage to tame! Instruct the mighty moments as they roll, And guide each movement steady to the goal. 140 Ye spirits by whose providential art Succeeding motives turn the changeful heart, Keep, keep the best in view to Curio's mind, And watch his fancy, and his passions bind! Ye shades immortal, who by Freedom led, Or in the field or on the scaffold bled, Bend from your radiant seats a joyful eye, And view the crown of all your labours nigh. See Freedom mounting her eternal throne! The sword submitted, and the laws her own: 150 See! public Power chastised beneath her stands, With eyes intent, and uncorrupted hands! See private Life by wisest arts reclaim'd! See ardent youth to noblest manners framed! See us acquire whate'er was sought by you, If Curio, only Curio will be true.
'Twas then--o shame! O trust how ill repaid! O Latium, oft by faithless sons betray'd!-- 'Twas then--What frenzy on thy reason stole? What spells unsinewed thy determined soul?-- 160 Is this the man in Freedom's cause approved, The man so great, so honour'd, so beloved, This patient slave by tinsel chains allured, This wretched suitor for a boon abjured, This Curio, hated and despised by all, Who fell himself to work his country's fall? O lost, alike to action and repose! Unknown, unpitied in the worst of woes! With all that conscious, undissembled pride, Sold to the insults of a foe defied! 170 With all that habit of familiar fame, Doom'd to exhaust the dregs of life in shame! The sole sad refuge of thy baffled art To act a statesman's dull, exploded part, Renounce the praise no longer in thy power, Display thy virtue, though without a dower, Contemn the giddy crowd, the vulgar wind, And shut thy eyes that others may be blind.-- Forgive me, Romans, that I bear to smile, When shameless mouths your majesty defile, 180 Paint you a thoughtless, frantic, headlong crew, And cast their own impieties on you. For witness, Freedom, to whose sacred power My soul was vow'd from reason's earliest hour, How have I stood exulting, to survey My country's virtues, opening in thy ray! How with the sons of every foreign shore The more I match'd them, honour'd hers the more! O race erect! whose native strength of soul, Which kings, nor priests, nor sordid laws control, 190 Bursts the tame round of animal affairs, And seeks a nobler centre for its cares; Intent the laws of life to comprehend, And fix dominion's limits by its end. Who, bold and equal in their love or hate, By conscious reason judging every state, The man forget not, though in rags he lies, And know the mortal through a crown's disguise: Thence prompt alike with witty scorn to view Fastidious Grandeur lift his solemn brow, 200 Or, all awake at pity's soft command, Bend the mild ear, and stretch the gracious hand: Thence large of heart, from envy far removed, When public toils to virtue stand approved, Not the young lover fonder to admire, Not more indulgent the delighted sire; Yet high and jealous of their free-born name, Fierce as the flight of Jove's destroying flame, Where'er Oppression works her wanton sway, Proud to confront, and dreadful to repay. 210 But if to purchase Curio's sage applause, My country must with him renounce her cause, Quit with a slave the path a patriot trod, Bow the meek knee, and kiss the regal rod; Then still, ye powers, instruct his tongue to rail, Nor let his zeal, nor let his subject fail: Else, ere he change the style, bear me away To where the Gracchi [2], where the Bruti stay!