A crime no less than his, if for one moment
That fierce desire had faded in my heart.
'Tis true I did believe, and hope, and pray,
Aye, I even knew... for God is wise and just,
That some strange sudden death hung over him.
'Tis true that this did happen, and most true.
There was no other rest for me on earth,
No other hope in Heaven... now what of this?

SAVELLA.

135

Strange thoughts beget strange deeds; and here are both: 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
Of accusation kills an innocent name,
And leaves for lame acquittal the poor life
Which is a mask without it. 'Tis most false
That I am guilty of foul parricide;
Although I must rejoice, for justest cause,
That other hands have sent my father's soul
To ask the mercy he denied to me.

110

145

Now leave us free: stain not a noble house

150

With vague surmises of rejected crime;
Add to our sufferings and your own neglect
No heavier sum: let them have been enough:
Leave us the wreck we have.

LUCRETIA.

O, not to Rome! O, 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.

160

165

Ha! they will bind us to the rack, and wrest
Self-accusation from our agony !

170

Will Giacomo be there? Orsino? Marzio ?

All present; all confronted; all demanding
Each from the other's countenance the thing

1

Which is in every heart! O, misery!

(She faints, and is borne out.)

SAVELLA.

She faints an ill appearance this.

BEATRICE.

My Lord,

She knows not yet the uses of the world.

1 In Shelley's two editions, others.

175

She fears that power is as a beast which grasps
And loosens not: a snake whose look transmutes
All things to guilt which is its nutriment.
She cannot know how well the supine slaves
Of blind authority read the truth of things
When written on a brow of guilelessness:
She sees not yet triumphant Innocence
Stand at the judgment-seat of mortal man,
A judge and an accuser of the wrong
Which drags it there. Prepare yourself, my Lord;
Our suite will join yours in the court below.

(Exeunt.)

180

185

END OF THE FOURTH ACT.

ACT V.

SCENE I.

AN APARTMENT IN ORSINO'S PALACE. ENTER ORSINO AND GIACOMO.

GIACOMO.

Do evil deeds thus quickly come to end?
O, that the vain remorse which must chastise
Crimes done, had but as loud a voice to warn
As its keen sting is mortal to avenge!
O, that the hour when present had cast off
The mantle of its mystery, and shewn

The ghastly form with which it now returns
When its scared game is roused, cheering the hounds
Of conscience to their prey! Alas! Alas!

It was a wicked thought, a piteous deed,

To kill an old and hoary-headed father.

ORSINO.

It has turned out unluckily, in truth.

GIACOMO.

To violate the sacred doors of sleep;
To cheat kind nature of the placid death
Which she prepares for overwearied age;
To drag from Heaven an unrepentant soul

Which might have quenched in reconciling prayers
A life of burning crimes. . .

5

10

15

ORSINO.

I urged you to the deed.

You cannot say

GIACOMO.

O, had I never

Found in thy smooth and ready countenance
The mirror of my darkest thoughts; hadst thou
Never with hints and questions made me look
Upon the monster of my thought, until
It grew familiar to desire...

ORSINO.

'Tis thus

Men cast the blame of their unprosperous acts
Upon the abettors of their own resolve;
Or any thing but their weak, guilty selves.

And yet, confess the truth, it is the peril

In which you stand that gives you this pale sickness Of penitence; Confess 'tis fear disguised

From its own shame that takes the mantle now

Of thin remorse.

What if we yet were safe?

GIACOMO.

How can that be? Already Beatrice,
Lucretia and the murderer are in prison.
I doubt not officers are, whilst we speak,
Sent to arrest us.

ORSINO.

I have all prepared

For instant flight. We can escape even now,
So we take fleet occasion by the hair.