CATILINE. Bonds of hatred.
FURIA. No! Rose ever spirit from the dankest grave For hate and vengeance? Listen, Catiline! The rivers of the underworld have quenched Each earthly flame that raged within my breast. As you behold me here, I am no longer The stormy Furia,—wild and passionate,— Whom once you loved—
CATILINE. You do not hate me then?
FURIA. Ah, now no more. When in the tomb I stood,— And faltered on the path that separates This life from death, at any moment ready To greet the underworld,—lo, seized me then An eerie shuddering; I know not what—; I felt in me a mystic transformation;— Away flowed hate, revenge, my very soul; Each memory vanished and each earthly longing;— Only the name of "Catiline" remains Written in fiery letters on my heart.
CATILINE. Ah, wonderful! No matter who you are,— A human form, a shadow from the dead,— There lies withal a dreadful fascination In your dark eyes, in every word you speak.
FURIA. Your mind is strong as mine; yet you give up, Disheartened and irresolute, each hope Of triumph and dominion. You forsake The battlefield, where all your inmost plans Could grow and blossom forth into achievement.
CATILINE. I must! Inexorable fate decrees it!
FURIA. Your fate? Why were you given a hero's strength,— If not to struggle with what you call fate?
CATILINE. Oh, I have fought enough! Was not my life A constant battle? What are my rewards? Disgrace and scorn—!
FURIA. Ah, you are fallen low! You struggle towards a high and daring goal, Are eager to attain it; yet you fear Each trifling hindrance.