"It is acrid poison, not a dagger or dart that has undone my strength.

And I can depart in peace, for I am no longer needed for anything.

You, Publius, must now take my place with this child, and will do it better than I.Klea, the wife of Publius Scipio! I indeed have dreamt that such a thing might come to pass, and I always knew, and have said to myself a thousand times that I now say to you my son: This girl here, this Klea is of a good sort, and worthy only of the noblest.
I give her to you, my son Publius, and now join your hands before me here--for I have always been like a father to her." "That you have indeed," sobbed Klea.

"And it was no doubt for my sake, and to protect me, that you quitted your retreat, and have met your death." "It was fate, it was fate," stammered the old man.
"The assassins were in ambush for me," cried Publius, seizing Serapion's hand, "the murderers who fell on you instead of me.

Once more, where is your wound ?" "My destiny fulfils itself," replied the recluse.