CATILINE. No, no! I say, you do not understand
Yourselves what you demand of me. Should I
Turn traitor and incite a civil war,--
Besmear my hand with Roman blood? No, no!
I'll never do it! Let the entire state
Condemn me if--

LENTULUS. You will not, Catiline?

CATILINE. No.

LENTULUS. Tell me,--have you nothing to avenge?
No insult? No one here you fain would strike?

CATILINE. Let him who will avenge; I shall not stir.
Yet silent scorn is likewise a revenge;--
And that alone shall be enough.

CETHEGUS. Aha,--
Our visit was, I see, inopportune.
Yet doubtless will the morrow bring you back
To other thoughts.

CATILINE. But why the morrow?

CETHEGUS. There are mysterious rumors in the air.
A vestal recently was led to death--

CATILINE. [Surprised.]
A vestal,--say you? Ah, what do you mean?