may soon arrive, I send thee, at thy brother's desire, those who will speak and do more than I dare write. Enter LUCRETIA, BEATRICE, and BERNARDO. Know'st thou this writing, lady? Beatrice. Savella. No. Nor thou? Lucretia (her conduct throughout the scene is marked by Where was it found? What is it? It should be Savella. Is it so ? Is it true, lady, that thy father did Such outrages as to awaken in thee Unfilial hate? Beatrice. Not hate, 'twas more than hate: This is most true, yet wherefore question me? Savella. There is a deed demanding question done; Thou hast a secret which will answer not. Beatrice. What say'st? My lord, your words are bold and rash. Of the Pope's Holiness. You must to Rome. Lucretia. Oh not to Rome! Indeed we are not guilty. I am more innocent of parricide Than is a child born fatherless. Dear mother, Your gentleness and patience are no shield For this keen-judging world, this two-edged lie, Which seems, but is not. What will human laws- Bar all access to retribution first, And then, when Heaven doth interpose to do To the redress of an unwonted crime, Make ye the victims who demanded it Culprits? 'Tis ye are culprits! That poor wretch If it be true he murdered Cenci, was A sword in the right hand of justest God. The crimes which mortal tongue dare never name Savella. That you desired his death? Beatrice. You own It would have been A crime no less than his if for one moment [are both. Savella. Strange thoughts beget strange deeds; and here I judge thee not. Beatrice. And yet, if you arrest me, You are the judge and executioner Of that which is the life of life: the breath Although I must rejoice, for justest cause, Savella. I dare not, lady. I pray that you prepare yourselves for Rome : There the Pope's further pleasure will be known. Lucretia. Oh not to Rome! Oh take us not to Rome ! Beatrice. Why not to Rome, dear mother? There, as here, Our innocence is as an armèd heel To trample accusation. God is there As here, and with his shadow ever clothes The innocent, the injured, and the weak ; And such are we. Cheer up, dear lady! lean On me; collect your wandering thoughts. My lord, As soon as you have taken some refreshment, And had all such examinations made Upon the spot as may be necessary To the full understanding of this matter, We shall be ready. Mother, will you come? Lucretia. Ha! they will bind us to the rack, and wrest Self-accusation from our agony ! Will Giacomo be there? Orsino? Marzio? [She faints, and is borne out. Savella. She faints; an ill appearance this. Beatrice. She knows not yet the uses of the world. My lord, [Exeunt. ACT V. SCENE I.—An Apartment in ORSINO'S Palace. Giacomo. Do evil deeds thus quickly come to end? As its keen sting is mortal to avenge! Oh that the hour when present had cast off The ghastly form with which it now returns, It was a wicked thought, a piteous deed, To kill an old and hoary-headed father! Orsino. It has turned out unluckily, in truth. Which might have quenched in reconciling prayers Orsino. I urged you to the deed. Giacomo. You cannot say Oh had I never Found in thy smooth and ready countenance It grew familiar to desire Men cast the blame of their unprosperous acts In which you stand that gives you this pale sickness Lucretia, and the murderer, are in prison. Sent to arrest us. Orsino. For instant flight. I have all prepared We can escape even now, So we take fleet Occasion by the hair. Giacomo. Rather expire in tortures, as I may ! What! will you cast by self-accusing flight Assured conviction upon Beatrice? She who alone, in this unnatural work, By fiends; avenging such a nameless wrong Whilst we for basest ends . . . I fear, Orsino, Orsino. Is it the desperation of your fear [Drawing Put up your weapon. Makes you thus rash and sudden with a friend I cannot now recede. Even whilst we speak, The ministers of justice wait below : They grant me these brief moments. Now, if you Have any word of melancholy comfort To speak to your pale wife, 'twere best to pass Out at the postern, and avoid them so. Giacomo. O generous friend! How canst thou pardon me? Would that my life could purchase thine! Orsino. That wish Now comes a day too late. Haste; fare thee well! |