In Galba the woman believes she sees the husband whom in her fond imagination she had fitted out with the charms of mind and person which his friend possesses.

She throws herself into his arms, and he does not repel her mistaken embraces; but the misshapen villain throws himself upon the pair and strangles his friend to death.

A slave enlightens the mystified woman; the murderer, not the dead hero at his feet, is her husband.

Singularly enough, she does not turn from him with hatred and loathing, but looks upon him with a great pity.

Then she turns her eyes upon the sun, which Christ had said should not set until she had cursed him, and gazes into its searing glow until her sight is again dead.