your soul desires.
FURIA. Here, do you say? Here, in this paltry Rome, Where naught exists but thraldom and oppression? Ah, Lucius, are you likewise one of those Who can Rome's past recall without confession Of shame? Who ruled here then? Who rule to-day? Then an heroic race--and now a rabble, The slaves of other slaves--
CATILINE. Mock me you may;-- Yet know,--to save Rome's freedom from this babble, To see yet once again her vanished splendor, Gladly I should, like Curtius, throw myself Into the abyss--
FURIA. I trust you, you alone; Your eyes glow bright; I know you speak the truth. Yet go; the priestesses will soon appear; Their wont it is to meet here at this hour.
CATILINE. I go; but only to return again. A magic power binds me to your side;-- So proud a woman have I never seen.
FURIA. [With a wild smile.] Then pledge me this; and swear that you will keep Whatever you may promise. Will you, Lucius?
CATILINE. I will do aught my Furia may require; Command me,--tell me what am I to promise.
FURIA. Then listen. Though I dwell a captive here, I know there lives a man somewhere in Rome Whom I have sworn deep enmity to death-- And hatred even beyond the gloomy grave.
CATILINE. And then--?
FURIA. Then swear, my enemy shall be Your enemy till death. Will you, my Lucius?
CATILINE. I swear it here by all the mighty gods! I swear it by my father's honored name And by my mother's memory--! But, Furia,-- What troubles you? Your eyes are wildly flaming,-- And white as marble, deathlike, are your cheeks.
FURIA. I do not know myself. A fiery stream Flows through my veins. Swear to the end your oath!
CATILINE. Oh, mighty powers, pour out upon this head Your boundless fury, let your lightning wrath Annihilate me, if I break my oath; Aye, like a demon I shall follow him!
FURIA. Enough! I trust you. Ah, my heart is eased. In your hand now indeed rests my revenge.
CATILINE. It shall be carried out. But tell me this,-- Who is your foe? And what was his transgression?
FURIA. Close by the Tiber, far from the city's tumult, My cradle stood; it was a quiet home! A sister much beloved lived with me there, A chosen vestal from her childhood days.-- Then came a coward to our distant valley;-- He saw the fair, young priestess of the future--
CATILINE. [Surprised.] A priestess? Tell me--! Speak--!
FURIA. He ravished her. She sought a grave beneath the Tiber's stream.
CATILINE. [Uneasy.] You know him?
FURIA. I have never seen the man. When first I heard the tidings, all was past. His name is all I know.
CATILINE. Then speak it out!
FURIA. Now is it famed. His name is Catiline.
CATILINE. [Taken aback.] What do you say? Oh, horrors! Furia, speak--!
FURIA. Calm yourself! What perturbs you? You grow pale. My Lucius,--is this man perhaps your friend?
CATILINE. My friend? Ah, Furia, no;--no longer now. For I have cursed,--and sworn eternal hate Against myself.
FURIA. You--you are Catiline?
CATILINE. Yes, I am he.
FURIA. My Sylvia you disgraced? Nemesis then indeed has heard my prayer;-- Vengeance you have invoked on your own head! Woe on you, man of violence! Woe!
CATILINE. How blank The stare is in your eye. Like Sylvia's shade You seem to me in this dim candle light.
[He rushes out; the lamp with the sacred fire goes out.]
FURIA. [After a pause.] Yes, now I understand it. From my eyes The veil is fallen,--in the dark I see. Hatred it was that settled in my breast, When first I spied him in the market-place. A strange emotion; like a crimson flame! Ah, he shall know what such a hate as mine, Constantly brewing, never satisfied, Can fashion out in ruin and revenge!
A VESTAL. [Enters.] Go, Furia, go; your watch is at an end; Therefore I came--. Yet, sacred goddess, here-- Woe unto you! The vestal fire is dead!
FURIA. [Bewildered.] Dead, did you say? So bright it never burned;-- 'Twill never, never die!
THE VESTAL. Great heavens,--what is this?
FURIA. The fires of hate are not thus lightly quenched! Behold, love bursts forth of a sudden,--dies Within the hour; but hate--
THE VESTAL. By all the gods,-- This is sheer madness!
[Calls out.]
THE VESTAL. Come! Oh, help! Come, help!
[VESTALS and temple SERVANTS rush in.]
SOME. What is amiss?
OTHERS. The vestal fire is dead!
FURIA. But hate burns on; revenge still blazes high!
THE VESTALS. Away with her to trial and punishment!
[They carry her out between them.]
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
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