Now, having been my own accuser, I would like to say something in my defense. I would say, Collatin, without contradicting the truth, that I tarnished my reputation only from loving my reputation too much. The flatteries of Sextus Tarquin did not touch my heart, his passion did not conquer me, his presents did not corrupt my loyalty, nor did love or ambition shake me. My mistake was simply that I loved my reputation too much. Yes, Collatin, my crime lies in preferring my reputation to true glory. When the insolent Sextus Tarquin entered my room, when I woke up and saw him holding a dagger in his hand, and when he began to talk about his passion for me, only the gods know what my feelings were at that moment and to what extent death seemed humiliating to me. In this state, I despised both the demands and threats of the tyrant. His offers and claims were both rejected. Neither love nor fear were effective on me. I did not fear death, on the contrary, I desired it more than once. My ethics had nothing to combat that night. I did not hesitate to prefer death to the love of this tyrant. There is no terrifying torture that I would not have endured joyfully in order to preserve my honor. But when my temperance had exhausted the patience of the tyrant, when he saw that his prayers, his tears, his gifts, his promises, his threats, even death, could not reach my heart, this barbarian, driven by rage, told me that if I resisted him still, not only would he stab me, but he would also kill a slave that was with him and place him in my bed, so that people could believe I have neglected my purity with this slave. I confess with shame that these words created in my mind a feeling that the certainty of death had not managed to awaken. I lost my reason and strength, I yielded to the oppressor, and the fear of becoming detestable to posterity was the only thing that held me back.

No, Collatin, I could not bear for people to accuse me of having failed my honor, and for my memory to be eternally dishonored. That's what prevented me from dying at that moment, and that's what kept me alive until now. I did everything possible to oppose the violence of the tyrant, except risking my own death. I wanted to live to preserve my reputation and not die without revenge. A false perception of true honor took hold of my spirit and made me commit a crime that I was afraid of being accused of. But the gods are my witnesses, my soul and my will are pure. I did not give my consent in this dark affair, neither in the beginning, nor during its course, nor at its end. You know, Collatin, when you introduced this tyrant to me as your friend, I did not knowingly arouse his abusive passion. I barely lifted my eyes to look at him. And the modesty I showed that day should be enough to remind you that I did not attract attention and therefore the disaster that happened to me. Since then, I have not seen the traitor Sextus Tarquin again until the day he tainted my chastity. But tyrants have no power over the will!

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