And that the child may from its infancy
Grow, day by day, more wicked and deformed,
Turning her mother's love to misery:
And that both she and it may live until
It shall repay her care and pain with hate,

Or what may else be more unnatural.

So he may hunt her through the clamorous scoffs
Of the loud world to a dishonoured grave.

Shall I revoke this curse? Go, bid her come,

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155

Before my words are chronicled in heaven. (Exit LUCRETIA.)
I do not feel as if I were a man,

But like a fiend appointed to chastise
The offences of some unremembered world.

My blood is running up and down my veins;
A fearful pleasure makes it prick and tingle:
I feel a giddy sickness of strange awe;
My heart is beating with an expectation
Of horrid joy.

Enter LUCRETIA.
What? Speak!
LUCRETIA.

She bids thee curse;

And if thy curses, as they cannot do,
Could kill her soul...

CENCI.

She would not come.

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165

"Tis well,

170

I can do both: first take what I demand,
And then extort concession. To thy chamber!
Fly ere I spurn thee: and beware this night
That thou cross not my footsteps. It were safer
To come between the tiger and his prey. (Exit LUCRETIA.)
It must be late; mine eyes grow weary dim

With unaccustomed heaviness of sleep.
Conscience! Oh, thou most insolent of lies!
They say that sleep, that healing dew of heaven,
Steeps not in balm the foldings of the brain.
Which thinks thee an impostor. I will go
First to belie thee with an hour of rest,
Which will be deep and calm, I feel: and then...
O, multitudinous Hell, the fiends will shake

VOL. I.

U

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180

Thine arches with the laughter of their joy!
There shall be lamentation heard in Heaven
As o'er an angel fallen; and upon Earth
All good shall droop and sicken, and ill things
Shall with a spirit of unnatural life

Stir and be quickened... even as I am now. (Exit.)

156

SCENE II.

BEFORE THE CASTLE OF PETRELLA. ENTER BEATRICE AND LUCRETIA ABOVE ON THE RAMPARTS.

BEATRICE.

They come not yet.

LUCRETIA.

'Tis scarce midnight.
BEATRICE.

How slow

Behind the course of thought, even sick with speed, Lags leaden-footed time!

LUCRETIA.

The minutes pass ...

If he should wake before the deed is done?

BEATRICE.

O, Mother! He must never wake again.

What thou hast said persuades me that our act
Will but dislodge a spirit of deep hell

Out of a human form.

LUCRETIA.

'Tis true he spoke

Of death and judgment with strange confidence
For one so wicked; as a man believing
In God, yet recking not of good or ill
And yet to die without confession! . . .

BEATRICE.

Oh!

Believe that Heaven is merciful and just,
And will not add our dread necessity

10

To the amount of his offences.

Enter OLIMPIO and MARZIO, below.

LUCRETIA.

They come.

See,

15

BEATRICE.

All mortal things must hasten thus

To their dark end. Let us go down.

(Exeunt LUCRETIA and BEATRICE from above.)
OLIMPIO.

How feel you to this work?

MARZIO.

As one who thinks

A thousand crowns excellent market price

For an old murderer's life. Your cheeks are pale.

OLIMPIO.

It is the white reflexion of your own,

Which you call pale.

MARZIO.

Is that their natural hue?
OLIMPIO.

Or 'tis my hate and the deferred desire
To wreak it, which extinguishes their blood.
MARZIO.

You are inclined then to this business?

20

OLIMPIO.

Aye.

If one should bribe me with a thousand crowns
To kill a serpent which had stung my child,

I could not be more willing.

Enter BEATRICE and LUCRETIA, below.

LUCRETIA.

I mixed an opiate with his drink:

He sleeps so soundly...

BEATRICE.

That his death will be

But as a change of sin-chastising dreams,
A dark continuance of the Hell within him,
Which God extinguish! But ye are resolved?
Ye know it is a high and holy deed?

OLIMPIO.

We are resolved.

MARZIO.

As to the how this act

Be warranted, it rests with you.

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85

Hush! Hark! What noise is that?

MARZIO.

BEATRICE.

Ha! some one comes!

Ye conscience-stricken cravens, rock to rest
Your baby hearts. It is the iron gate,
Which ye left open, swinging to the wind,
That enters whistling as in scorn. Come, follow!
And be your steps like mine, light, quick and bold.
(Exeunt.)

40

SCENE III.

AN APARTMENT IN THE CASTLE. ENTER BEATRICE AND

LUCRETIA.

LUCRETIA.

They are about it now.

BEATRICE.

Nay, it is done.

LUCRETIA.

I have not heard him groan.

He will not groan.

BEATRICE.

LUCRETIA.

What sound is that?

BEATRICE.

List! 'tis the tread of feet

About his bed.

LUCRETIA.

My God!

If he be now a cold stiff corpse.

BEATRICE.

O, fear not

What may be done, but what is left undone :

We dare not kill an old and sleeping man;
His thin grey hair, his stern and reverent brow,
His veined hands crossed on his heaving breast,
And the calm innocent sleep in which he lay,
Quelled me. Indeed, indeed, I cannot do it.
MARZIO.

But I was bolder; for I chid Olimpio,

And bade him bear his wrongs to his own grave
And leave me the reward. And now my knife
Touched the loose wrinkled throat, when the old man
Stirred in his sleep, and said, "God! hear, O, hear,
"A father's curse! What, art thou not our father?"

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15