Percy Bysshe Shelley
Page 104
LUCRETIA
Oh, agony of fear!
Would that he yet might live! Even now I heard
The Legate’s followers whisper as they passed
They had a warrant for his instant death.
All was prepared by unforbidden means,
Which we must pay so dearly, having done. 30
Even now they search the tower, and find the body;
Now they suspect the truth; now they consult
Before they come to tax us with the fact.
Oh, horrible, ‘t is all discovered!
BEATRICE
Mother,
What is done wisely is done well. Be bold
As thou art just. ‘T is like a truant child,
To fear that others know what thou hast done,
Even from thine own strong consciousness, and thus
Write on unsteady eyes and altered cheeks
All thou wouldst hide. Be faithful to thyself, 40
And fear no other witness but thy fear.
For if, as cannot be, some circumstance
Should rise in accusation, we can blind
Suspicion with such cheap astonishment,
Or overbear it with such guiltless pride,
As murderers cannot feign. The deed is done,
And what may follow now regards not me.
I am as universal as the light;
Free as the earth-surrounding air; as firm
As the world’s centre. Consequence, to me, 50
Is as the wind which strikes the solid rook,
But shakes it not.
(A cry within and tumult)
VOICES
Murder! Murder! Murder!
Enter BERNARDO and SAVELLA
SAVELLA (to his followers)
Go, search the castle round; sound the alarm;
Look to the gates, that none escape!
BEATRICE
What now?
BERNARDO
I know not what to say — my father ‘s dead.
BEATRICE
How, dead! he only sleeps; you mistake, brother.
His sleep is very calm, very like death;
‘T is wonderful how well a tyrant sleeps.
He is not dead?
BERNARDO
Dead; murdered!
LUCRETIA (with extreme agitation)
Oh, no, no!
He is not murdered, though he may be dead; 60
I have alone the keys of those apartments.
SAVELLA
Ha! is it so?
BEATRICE
My Lord, I pray excuse us;
We will retire; my mother is not well;
She seems quite overcome with this strange horror.
[Exeunt LUCRETIA and BEATRICE.
SAVELLA
Can you suspect who may have murdered him?
BERNARDO
I know not what to think.
SAVELLA
Can you name any
Who had an interest in his death?
BERNARDO
Alas!
I can name none who had not, and those most
Who most lament that such a deed is done;
My mother, and my sister, and myself. 70
SAVELLA
‘T is strange! There were clear marks of violence.
I found the old man’s body in the moonlight,
Hanging beneath the window of his chamber
Among the branches of a pine; he could not
Have fallen there, for all his limbs lay heaped
And effortless; ‘t is true there was no blood.
Favor me, sir — it much imports your house
That all should be made clear — to tell the ladies
That I request their presence.
[Exit BERNARDO.
Enter Guards, bringing in MARZIO
GUARD
We have one.
OFFICER
My Lord, we found this ruffian and another 80
Lurking among the rocks; there is no doubt
But that they are the murderers of Count Cenci;
Each had a bag of coin; this fellow wore
A gold-inwoven robe, which, shining bright
Under the dark rocks to the glimmering moon,
Betrayed them to our notice; the other fell
Desperately fighting.
SAVELLA
What does he confess?
OFFICER
He keeps firm silence; but these lines found on him
May speak.
SAVELLA
Their language is at least sincere.
(Reads)
“TO THE LADY BEATRICE.
That the atonement of what my nature 90
sickens to conjecture may soon arrive, I
send thee, at thy brother’s desire, those
who will speak and do more than I dare
write.
Thy devoted servant,
ORSINO.”
Enter LUCRETIA, BEATRICE, and BERNARDO
Knowest thou this writing, lady?
BEATRICE
No.
SAVELLA
Nor thou?
LUCRETIA (her conduct throughout the scene is
marked by extreme agitation)
Where was it found? What is it? It should be
Orsino’s hand! It speaks of that strange horror
Which never yet found utterance, but which made
Between that hapless child and her dead father
A gulf of obscure hatred.
SAVELLA
Is it so, 100
Is it true, Lady, that thy father did
Such outrages as to awaken in thee
Unfilial hate?
BEATRICE
Not hate, ‘t was 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 sayest? My Lord, your words are bold and rash.
SAVELLA
I do arrest all present in the name
Of the Pope’s Holiness. You must to Rome.
LUCRETIA
Oh, not to Rome! indeed we are not guilty. 110
BEATRICE
Guilty! who dares talk of guilt? My Lord,
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,
Rather will ye who are their ministers,
Bar all access to retribution first,
And then, when Heaven doth interpose to do
What ye neglect, arming familiar things 120
To the redress of an unwonted crime,
Make ye the victims who demanded it
Culprits? ‘T is ye are culprits! That poor wretch
Who stands so pale, and trembling, and amazed,
If it be true he murdered Cenci, was
A sword in the right hand of justest God.
Wherefore should I have wielded it? unless
The crimes which mortal tongue dare never name
God therefore scruples to avenge.
SAVELLA
You own
That you desired his death?
BEATRICE
It would have been 130
A crime no less than his, if for one moment
That fierce desire had faded in my heart.
‘T is true I did believe, and hope, and pray,
Ay, I even knew — for God is wise and just —
That some strange sudden death hung over him.
‘T is 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
Strange thoughts beget strange deed
s; and here are both;
I judge thee not.
BEATRICE
And yet, if you arrest me, 140
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. ‘T is 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.
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.
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, 160
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 170
Self-accusation from our agony!
Will Giacomo be there? Orsino? Marzio?
All present; all confronted; all demanding
Each from the other’s countenance the thing
Which is in every heart! Oh, 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.
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. 180
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.
Act V
SCENE I. — An Apartment in ORSINO’S Palace. Enter ORSINO and GIACOMO.
GIACOMO
Do evil deeds thus quickly come to end?
Oh, 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!
Oh, that the hour when present had cast off
The mantle of its mystery, and shown
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, 10
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 —
ORSINO
You cannot say
I urged you to the deed.
GIACOMO
Oh, had I never
Found in thy smooth and ready countenance 20
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
‘T is thus
Men cast the blame of their unprosperous acts
Upon the abettors of their own resolve;
Or anything 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 ‘t is fear disguised 30
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.
GIACOMO
Rather expire in tortures, as I may.
What! will you cast by self-accusing flight 40
Assured conviction upon Beatrice?
She who alone, in this unnatural work
Stands like God’s angel ministered upon
By fiends; avenging such a nameless wrong
As turns black parricide to piety;
Whilst we for basest ends — I fear, Orsino,
While I consider all your words and looks,
Comparing them with your proposal now,
That you must be a villain. For what end
Could you engage in such a perilous crime, 50
Training me on with hints, and signs, and smiles,
Even to this gulf? Thou art no liar? No,
Thou art a lie! Traitor and murderer!
Coward and slave! But no — defend thyself;
(Drawing)
Let the sword speak what the indignant tongue
Disdains to brand thee with.
ORSINO
Put up your weapon.
Is it the desperation of your fear
Makes you thus rash and sudden with a friend,
Now ruined for your sake? If honest anger
Have moved you, know, that what I just proposed 60
Was but to try you. As for me, I think
Thankless affection led me to this point,
From which, if my firm temper could repent,
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, ‘t were best to pass
Out at the postern, and avoid them so.
GIACOMO
O generous friend! how canst thou pardon me? 70
Would that my life could purchase thine!
ORSINO
That wish
Now comes a day too late. Haste; fare thee well!
Hear’st thou not steps along the corridor?
[Exit GIACOMO.
I ‘m sorry for it; but the guards are waiting
At his own gate, and such was my contrivance
That I might rid me both of him and them.
I thought to act a solemn comedy
Upon the painted scene of this new world,
And to attain my own peculiar ends
By some such plot of mingled good and ill 80
As others weave; but there arose a Power
Which gra
sped and snapped the threads of my device,
And turned it to a net of ruin — Ha!
(A shout is heard)
Is that my name I hear proclaimed abroad?
But I will pass, wrapped in a vile disguise,
Rags on my back and a false innocence
Upon my face, through the misdeeming crowd,
Which judges by what seems. ‘T is easy then,
For a new name and for a country new,
And a new life fashioned on old desires, 90
To change the honors of abandoned Rome.
And these must be the masks of that within,
Which must remain unaltered. — Oh, I fear
That what is past will never let me rest!
Why, when none else is conscious, but myself,
Of my misdeeds, should my own heart’s contempt
Trouble me? Have I not the power to fly
My own reproaches? Shall I be the slave
Of — what? A word? which those of this false world
Employ against each other, not themselves, 100
As men wear daggers not for self-offence.
But if I am mistaken, where shall I
Find the disguise to hide me from myself,
As now I skulk from every other eye?
[Exit.
SCENE II. — A Hall of Justice. CAMILLO, JUDGES, etc., are discovered seated; MARZIO is led in.
FIRST JUDGE
Accused, do you persist in your denial?
I ask you, are you innocent, or guilty?
I demand who were the participators
In your offence. Speak truth, and the whole truth.
MARZIO
My God! I did not kill him; I know nothing;
Olimpio sold the robe to me from which
You would infer my guilt.
SECOND JUDGE
Away with him!
FIRST JUDGE
Dare you, with lips yet white from the rack’s kiss,
Speak false? Is it so soft a questioner
That you would bandy lover’s talk with it, 10
Till it wind out your life and soul? Away!
MARZIO
Spare me! Oh, spare! I will confess.
FIRST JUDGE
Then speak.
MARZIO
I strangled him in his sleep.
FIRST JUDGE
Who urged you to it?
MARZIO
His own son Giacomo and the young prelate
Orsino sent me to Petrella; there
The ladies Beatrice and Lucretia
Tempted me with a thousand crowns, and I
And my companion forthwith murdered him.
Now let me die.
FIRST JUDGE
This sounds as bad as truth.
Guards, there, lead forth the prisoners.
Enter LUCRETIA, BEATRICE and GIACOMO, guarded
Look upon this man; 20
When did you see him last?
BEATRICE
We never saw him.
MARZIO
You know me too well, Lady Beatrice.
BEATRICE
I know thee! how? where? when?
MARZIO
You know ‘t was I