And for the defense of those accused in court.
Now you are setting out to tell the story
Of the civil wars that began so long ago,
In the consulship ofMetellus: the ways they happened,
The reasons for the wars, the mistakes that were made,
The consequences of friendships of the great ones,
All the blood shed that to this day's unpaid for.
What you are undertaking is full of danger.
Fire bums under the ashes you walk on.
Even now I seem to hear the raucous sound
Of the war horns in the music you create.
The deafening noise of trumpets fills my ear.
I see the javelins and swords, the shields,
The helmets, and the shining breastplates. I see the terror
In the terrified horses' faces, and I see
The terror in the faces of their riders.
I hear the exhortations of the captains
Covered with not inglorious filth; I see
The world brought down by Roman arms, in spite
Of Cato's virtuous stubbornness of heart.
Helpless to help, Juno and all the gods
Allied with her to favor Africa
From Africa had withdrawn their help, and then
Renewed the offer with the sacrifice
Of the bodies of the grandsons of the victors,
As tribute to the African, Jugurtha.
What field is there that isn't fertilized
With Roman blood, where Roman graves bear witness
To the impiety of Romans fighting Romans?
Witness the noise of Hesperia's crashing fall,
Pleasing the ears of the Parthian enemy
Who heard it on the other side of the world.
