“Go on, my lord, I will hear thee, though I suffer death with every word thou speak’st.”
“It is well, Aurelia, that thou art prepared for this.”
“Thy dagger, my Cœlius, were less painful than thy words and looks unkind.”
“Never was I unkind until I found thee false.”
“Never was I false, my lord, even when thou wast unkind.”
“Woman! lie not; thou wert discovered with thy paramour, here, in this tomb; thou wert followed, day by day, and all thy secret practices betrayed. This thou ow’st to the better vigilance of my dear brother Aruns—he, more watchful of my honor than myself—”
“Ah! well I know from what hand came the cruel shaft; Cœlius, my Cœlius, thy brother is a wretch, doomed to infamy and black with crime. I have had no paramour. I might have had, and thou might’st have been dishonored, had I hearkened to thy brother’s pleadings. I spurned him from my feet with loathing, and he requites me with hate. Oh! my husband, believe me, and place this man, whom thou too fondly callest thy brother, before thine eyes and mine!”
“Alas! Aurelia, this boldness becomes thee not. I myself traced thee to this tomb—these eyes but too frequently beheld thee with thy paramour.”
“Cœlius, as I live, he was no paramour—but where is he, what hast thou done with him?”
“Sent him before thee to prepare thy coach in Hades!”