The oppressor and the oppressed-such pangs compel Judge. Art thou not guilty of thy father's death? Which I have suffered, and which he beheld; But that which thou hast called my father's death? If ye desire it thus, thus let it be. And so an end of all. Now do your will; No other pains shall force another word. Judge. She is convicted, but has not confessed. Be it enough. Until their final sentence Let none have converse with them. You, young lord, Beatr. O, tear him not away! Judge. Guards do your duty. Ber. [Embracing BEATRICE]. Oh! would ye divide body from soul? Officer. That is the headsman's business." [Exeunt all but LUCRETIA, BEATRICE, and GIACOMO. Giac. Have I confessed? Is it all over now? No hope! No refuge! O weak, wicked tongue, Which hast destroyed me, would that thou hadst been Cut out and thrown to dogs first? To have killed My father first, and then betrayed my sister; Lucr. O, my child! [Covers his face, and weeps. To what a dreadful end are we all come ! Why did I yield? Why did I not sustain Those torments? Oh, that I were all dissolved Which flow and feel not! Beatr. What 'twas weak to do, 'Tis weaker to lament, once being done; Take cheer! The God who knew my wrong, and made Our speedy act the angel of his wrath, Seems, and but seems to have abandoned us. Let us not think that we shall die for this. Till they almost forget they live: lie down! SONG. False friend, wilt thou smile or weep What is this whispers low? There is a snake in thy smile, my dear; Sweet sleep, were death like to thee, Listen to the passing bell! It says, thou and I must part, SCENE IV.-A Hall of the Prison. Enter CAMILLO and BERNARDO. [The scene closes. Cam. The Pope is stern; not to be moved or bent. A rite, a law, a custom: not a man. He frowned, as if to frown had been the trick Of his machinery, on the advocates Presenting the defences, which he tore And threw behind, muttering with hoarse, harsh voice: "Which among ye defended their old father, Killed in his sleep?" Then to another: "Thou Dost this in virtue of thy place; 'tis well." He turned to me then, looking deprecation, And said these three words, coldly: "They must die." Cam. I urged him still; Pleading, as I could guess, the devilish wrong Which prompted your unnatural parent's death. Murdered his mother yester evening, And he is fled. Parricide grows so rife, That soon, for some just cause, no doubt, the young Will strangle us all, dozing in our chairs. Authority, and power, and hoary hair, Are grown crimes capital. You are my nephew, Till, to the letter, it be all fulfilled." Ber. O God, not so! I did believe indeed That all you said was but sad preparation For happy news. O, there are words and looks What think you if I seek him out, and bathe He strike me with his pastoral cross, and trample May stain the senseless dust on which he treads, Cam. Alas! poor boy! A wreck-devoted seaman thus might pray [Rushes out. Enter LUCRETIA, BEATRICE, and GIACOMO, guarded. Beatr. I hardly dare to fear That thou bring'st other news than a just pardon. Cam. May God in heaven be less inexorable To the Pope's prayers, than he has been to mine. Beatr. [Wildly]. Oh, My God! can it be possible I have To die so suddenly? So young to go Under the obscure, cold, rotting, wormy ground! To see no more sweet sunshine; hear no more Sweet Heaven, forgive weak thoughts! If there should be His eyes on mine, and drag me down, down, down On earth and ever present? Even though dead, Lucr. Trust in God's sweet love, The tender promises of Christ: ere night Beatr. 'Tis past! Whatever comes, my heart shall sink no more. And yet, I know not why, your words strike chill: Have met with much injustice in this world; I am cut off from the only world I know, From light, and life, and love, in youth's sweet prime. I hope I do trust in him. In whom else Can any trust? And yet my heart is cold. [During the latter speeches GIACOMO has retired conversing with CAMILLO, who now goes out. GIACOMO advances] Giac. Know you not, mother-sister, know you not? Bernardo even now is gone to implore The Pope to grant our pardon. Lucr. Child, perhaps It will be granted. We may all then live O, what a thought! It gushes to my heart Beatr. Yet both will soon be cold. O, trample out that thought! Worse than despair, It is the only ill which can find place Upon the giddy, sharp and narrow hour O, plead Tottering beneath us. Plead with the swift frost And whilst our murderers live, and hard, cold men, Were some strange joy for us. Come, obscure Death, Like a fond mother hide me in thy bosom, And rock me to the sleep from which none wake. Live ye, who live, subject to one another As we were once, who now Ber. BERNARDO rushes in. Oh, horrible! That tears, that looks, that hope poured forth in prayer, Should all be vain! The ministers of death Shivered to dust! To see thee, Beatrice, Who made all lovely thou didst look upon- Whose love was a bond to all our loves Dead! The sweet bond broken! Enter CAMILLO and Guards. They come ! Let me Kiss those warm lips before their crimson leaves Beatr. Farewell, my tender brother. Think And let mild pitying thoughts lighten for thee Though wrapt in a strange cloud of crime and shame, Ill tongues shall wound me, and our common name Cam. O, Lady Beatrice! Beatr. Give yourself no unnecessary pain, And yours I see is coming down. How often |