Recitative

So it is thus that in one day I lose both pomp and grandeur? 
Cruel fate! 
Cesare, my beautiful god, is perhaps dead; 
Cornelia and Sesto are powerless and can’t help me. O god! 
There is no more hope in my life. 

Aria

I will cry my fate, so cruel and mean, so long as I have life in my breast. 
But then when dead, turned ghost, I will agitate the tyrant all around night and day.