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!

FURIA. Did you not lately swear you were prepared
To do my bidding?

CURIUS. Ask me what you will;
In everything I serve you and obey!
I only beg,--forget this Catiline.

FURIA. I shall forget him first--when he has stepped
Into his grave.

CURIUS. [Draws back.] Ah, you demand that I--?

FURIA. You need not use the steel; you can betray
His enterprise--

CURIUS. Murder and treachery
At once! Remember, Furia, he is still
My foster-father and--

FURIA. --My aim in life!