After this, Collatinus, I ask of you the punishment I deserve. Deprive me of your<hr>
affection, wipe me from your memory. Avenge the insult that has been done to me, but only out of love for<hr>
you, and not out of love for myself. Consider me henceforth as a vile person, and although my misfortune is extreme, deny me the compassion everyone in their wretchedness is entitled to.<hr>
Now, after having accused myself, I would like to say something for my<hr>
defense. Collatinus, it's the truth I speak when I say my fame is tarnished due to my love for it. The flattery of Sextus Tarquinius touched not<hr>
my heart, his passion yielded no conquest over me, his gifts did not corrupt my faithfulness, neither<hr>
love nor ambition shook me. My single mistake was that I loved my reputation too much, yes Collatinus, my crime lies in preferring my fame to true<hr>
glory. When the audacious Sextus Tarquinius entered my chamber, woke me up with a dagger in his hand and started to talk about his passion for me, the gods alone know how I felt at that moment and how tremendously humiliating death seemed. In that state, I equally dismissed both the demands and threats of the tyrant. His offers and claims were both discarded. Neither love nor fear moved me. I did not fear death, on the contrary, I longed for it more than once. That night, my virtue encountered no adversary. I did not hesitate to prefer death to the love of this tyrant. There is no dreadful torment I wouldn’t have endured with joy to conserve my honour. But when my temperance drained the tyrant's patience, when he saw that his pleas, his tears, his gifts, his promises, his threats, and even death couldn't reach my heart, this brute, driven by fury, told me that if I resisted him anymore, he would not only stab me but also one of the slaves accompanying him and place him in my bed, so people would believe I had lost my purity with this slave. I must shamefully confess that these words stirred a fear in me that the certainty of death had failed to evoke. I lost my senses and strength, I yielded to the oppressor, and the fear of being hated by the future generations was the only thing that held me back.<hr>
       No, Collatinus, I couldn't bear the thought of being accused of dishonoring myself and having my memory eternally disgraced. This was what prevented me from dying at that moment, and kept me alive until now. I did everything to resist the tyrant's violence, except confront death. I wanted to live enough to protect my reputation and not die without revenge. A false notion of true honor seized my mind and made me perpetrate a crime I feared to be accused of. Yet, the gods bear witness that my spirit and will are pure. I never consented to this grim affair, neither in its initiation, its unfolding, nor its conclusion. You must know, Collatinus, when you introduced this tyrant to me as your friend, I did not intentionally arouse his abusive passion. I barely lifted my eyes to look at him. And the modesty I showed on that<hr>
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