LENTULUS. Why, yes, a vestal. Many people murmur--

CATILINE. What do they murmur?

CETHEGUS. That in this dark affair
You are not altogether innocent.

CATILINE. This they believe of me?

LENTULUS. Such is the rumor;
Of course,--to us, to all your good old friends,
Such talk is trifling and of no account;--
The world, however, judges more severely.

CATILINE. [Deep in thought.] And is she dead?

CETHEGUS. Undoubtedly she is.
An hour's confinement in the convict tomb
Is quite enough--

LENTULUS. That is not our affair.
It was not therefore that we spoke of her.
But hear me, Catiline! Bethink yourself.
You sought the consulate; and all your welfare
Hung on that single fragile thread of hope.
Now is it sundered; everything is lost.

CATILINE. [Still deep in thought.]
"Vengeance you have invoked on your own head!"