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CORDENIUS.

And so thou hast, and I may not deceive thee.

Take, take, Sulpicius.—O such withering words!
The sinking, sick'ning heart and parched mouth!
I cannot utter them.

SULPICIUS.

Why in this agony of perturbation?

Nay, strive not now to speak.

CORDENIUS.

I must, I must!—

Take back thy proffer'd gift; all earth could give;—
That which it cannot give I must retain.

SULPICIUS.

What words were these? If it were possible,

I could believe thee touch'd with sorcery,
The cursed art of those vile Nazarenes.
Where hast thou past the night? their haunts are near.

ORCERES.

Nay, nay; repress thine anger; noble Maro

May not be questioned thus.

SULPICIUS.

He may, and shall. And yet I will not urge him,

If he, with hand press'd on his breast, will say,
That he detests those hateful Nazarenes.