FURIA. Has he then resolved To launch at last the daring enterprise He long has cherished?
CURIUS. Then you know—?
FURIA. Yes, all.
CURIUS. Ah, then you doubtless know, too, he himself Is foremost in this daring enterprise? Yet, I adjure you, beg you, think no more Of Catiline!
FURIA. Answer me this alone; 'Tis all I ask of you. Do you go with him?
CURIUS. He is to me a tender father—
FURIA. [Smiling.] He? My Catiline?
CURIUS. Ah!
FURIA. He,—round whom my thoughts Course without rest?
CURIUS. My brain is in a tumult— I hate this man—! Oh, I could murder him!