I think to win thee at an easier rate.
•Nor shall he read her eloquent petition:
He migh: bestow her on some poor relation
Of his sixth cousin, as he did her sister,
And I should be debarred from all access.
Then, as to what she suffers from her father,
In all this there is much exaggeration:
Old men are testy, and will have their way;
A man may stab his enemy, or his vassal,
And live a free life as to wine or women,
And with a peevish temper may return
To a dull home, and rate his wife and children;
Daughters and wives call this foul tyranny.
I shall be well content, if on my conscience
There rest no heavier sin than what they suffer
From the devices of my love-A net
From which she shall escape not. Yet I fear
Her subtle mind, her awe-inspiring gaze,
Whose beams anatomize me, nerve by nerve,
And lay me bare, and make me blush to see
My hidden thoughts.-Ah, no! A friendless girl
Who clings to me, as to her only hope:-
I were a fool, not less than if a panther
Were panic-stricken by the antelope's eye,
If she escape me.
A magnificent Hall in the Cenci Palace. A Banquet. Enter CENCI, LUCRETIA, BEATRICE, Orsino, Camillo,
Cen. Welcome, my friends and kinsmen; welcome, ye Princes and Cardinals, Pillars of the church;
Whose presence honours our festivity.
I have too long lived like an anchorite,
And, in my absence from your merry meetings,
An evil word is gone abroad of me;
But I do hope that you, my noble friends,
When you have shared the entertainment here,
And heard the pious cause for which 'tis given,
And we have pledged a health or two together,
Will think me flesh and blood as well as you;
Sinful, indeed, for Adam made all so,
But tender-hearted, meek, and pitiful.
1. Guest. In truth, my lord, you seem too light of heart, Too sprightly and companionable a man,
To act the deeds that rumour pins on you.
I never saw such blithe and open cheer
In any eye
Some most desired event,
In which we all demand a common joy,
Has brought us hither; let us hear it, Count.
Cen. It is indeed a most desired event:
If, when a parent, from a parent's heart,
Lifts from this earth to the great Father of all
A prayer, both when he lays him down to sleep,
And when he rises up from dreaming it;
One supplication, one desire, one hope,
That he would grant a wish for his two sons,
Even all that he demands in their regard-
And suddenly, beyond his dearest hope,
It is accomplished:-he should then rejoice,
And call his friends and kinsmen to a feast,
And task their love to grace his merriment.
Then honour me thus far-for I am he.
Beatr. (to Lucretia.) Great God! how horrible!
Some dreadful ill
Must have befallen my brothers.
I fear that wicked laughter round his eye,
Which wrinkles up the skin even to the hair.
Cen. Here are the letters brought from Salamanca;
Beatrice, read them to your mother. God,
I thank thee! In one night didst thou perform,
By ways inscrutable, the thing I sought.
My disobedient and rebellious sons
Are dead!-Why dead!-What means this change of cheer! You hear me not, I tell you they are dead:
And they will need no food nor raiment more:
The tapers that did light them the dark way
Are their last cost. The Pope, I think, will not
Expect I should maintain them in their coffins.
Rejoice with me-my heart is wondrous glad.
Beatr. (Lucretia sinks, half fainting; Beatrice supports kør.)
It is not true!-Dear lady, pray look up.
Had it been true, there is a God in Heaven,
He would not live to boast of such a boon.
Unnatural man, thou knowest that it is false.
Cen. Ay, as the word of God; whom here I call
To witness that I speak the sober truth;—
And whose most favouring Providence was shown
Even in the manner of their deaths. For Rocco
Was kneeling at the mass, with sixteen others,
When the church fell and crushed him to a mummy;
The rest escaped unhurt. Cristofano
Was stabbed in error by a jealous man,
Whilst she he loved was sleeping with his rival;
All in the self-same hour of the same night;
Which shows that Heaven has special care of me.
I beg those friends who love me, that they mark
The day a feast upon their calendars,
It was the twenty-seventh of December:
Ay, read the letters if you doubt my oath,
(The assembly appears confused; several of the gucats rim.) 1. Guest. Oh, horrible! I will depart.—
I do believe it is some jest; though, faith,
'Tis mocking us somewhat too solemnly.
I think his son has married the Infanta,
Or found a mine of gold in El Dorado:
"Tis but to season some such news; stay, stay!
I see 'tis only raillery by his smile.
Cen. (Filling a bowl of wine, and lifting it up.)
Oh, thou bright wine, whose purple splendour leaps
And bubbles gaily in this golden bowl
Under the lamp-light, as my spirits do,
To hear the death of my accursed sons!
Could I believe thou wert their mingled blood,
Then would I taste thee like a sacrament,
And pledge with thee the mighty Devil in Hell;
Who, if a father's curses, as men say,
Climb with swift wings after their children's souls,
And drag them from the very throne of Heaven,
Now triumphs in my triumph!-But thou art
Superfluous; I have drunken deep of joy,
And I will taste no other wine to-night.
Here, Andrea! bear the bowl around.
Will none among this noble company
Check the abandoned villain?
Let me dismiss the guests! You are insane,
Some ill will come of this.
Cen. (Addressing those who rise with a threatening gesture.) Who moves? Who speaks? (Turning to the company.) "Tis nothing,
Enjoy yourselves.-Beware! for my revenge
Is as the sealed commission of a king,
That kills, and none dare name the murderer.
(The banquet is broken up; several of the guests are departing. I
Beatr. I do intreat you, go not, noble guests;
What, although tyranny and impious hate
Stand sheltered by a father's hoary hair?
What if 'tis he who clothed us in these limbs
Who tortures them, and triumphs?-What, if we
The desolate and the dead, were his own flesh,
His children and his wife, whom he is bound
To love and shelter? Shall we therefore find
No refuge in this merciless wide world?
Oh, think what deep wrongs must have blotted out
First love, the reverence in a child's prone mind,
Till it thus vanquish shame and fear! Oh, think!
I have born much, and kissed the sacred hand
Which crushed us to the earth, and thought its stroke
Was perhaps some paternal chastisement!
Have excused much, doubted; and when no doubt
Remained, have sought by patience, love and tears,
To soften him; and, when this could not be,
I have knelt down through the long sleepless nights,
And lifted up to God, the Father of all,
Passionate prayers: and when these were not heard,
I have still borne until I meet you here,
Princes and kinsmen, at this hideous feast
Given at my brothers' deaths. Two yet remain,
His wife remains and I, whom if ye save not,
You soon may share such merriment again
As fathers make over their children's graves.
Oh! Prince Colonna, thou art our near kinsman;
Cardinal, thou art the Pope's chamberlain;
Camillo, thou art chief justiciary;
Cen. (He has been conversing with Camillo during the first part of Beatrice's speech; he hears the conclusion, and now advances.)
I hope my good friends here
Will think of their own daughters or perhaps
Of their own throats-before they lend an ear
To this wild girl!
Beatr. (Not noticing the words of Cenci.)
Dare no one look on me?
None answer? Can one tyrant overbear
The sense of many best and wisest men?
Or is it that I sue not in some form
Of scrupulous law, that ye deny my suit?
Oh, God! that I were buried with my brothers!
And that the flowers of this departed spring
Were fading on my grave! And that my
Were celebrating now one feast for all!
Cam. A bitter wish for one so young and gentle; Can we do nothing?
Count Cenci were a dangerous enemy:
Yet I would second any one.
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