CURIUS.
Alas, this fury that has seized your soul--!
Yet you are lovely even in your madness.
Oh, Furia, think no more of Catiline!
Come, flee with me! Command me,--I shall serve you!
[He prostrates himself before her.]

CURIUS.
A prostrate slave I here entreat of you
One single look. Oh, hear me, Furia, hear me!
I love but you! A sweet and lethal fire
Consumes my soul, and you--ah, you alone--
Can ease my suffering.--