CURIUS.
[Comes forward.]
To prison now they take her. Thence to death.--
No, no, by all the gods, this shall not be!
Must she, most glorious of womankind,
Thus perish in disgrace, entombed alive?--
Oh, never have I felt so strangely moved.
Is this then love? Yes, love it is indeed.--
Then shall I set her free!--But Catiline?
With hate and vengeance will she follow him.
Has he maligners not enough already?
Dare I still others to their number add?
He was to me as were an elder brother;
And gratitude now bids me that I shield him.--
But what of love? Ah, what does it command?
And should he quake, the fearless Catiline,
Before the intrigues of a woman? No;--
Then to the rescue work this very hour!
Wait, Furia;--I shall drag you from your grave
To life again,--though at the risk of death!
[He goes away quickly.]