Realms where the air we breathe is love, Which in the winds and on the waves doth move, LAST HOUR OF BEATRICE From The Cenci' Enter Lucretia, Beatrice, and Giacomo, guarded EATRICE I hardly dare to fear B That thou bring'st other news than a just pardon. Camillo May God in heaven be less inexorable To the Pope's prayers than he has been to mine. Beatrice [wildly]— My God! Can it be possible I have To die so suddenly? So young to go To see no more sweet sunshine; hear no more What? Oh, where am I? Let me not go mad! Sweet Heaven, forgive weak thoughts! If there should be The wide, gray, lampless, deep, unpeopled world! His eyes on mine, and drag me down, down, down! On earth, and ever present? Even though dead, 13274 Lucretia Beatrice Trust in God's sweet love, 'Tis past! Whatever comes, my heart shall sink no more. 'Twixt good or evil, as regarded me. I am cut off from the only world I know, From light, and life, and love, in youth's sweet prime. You do well telling me to trust in God,— 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.] Giacomo Lucretia Beatrice Know you not, mother-sister, know you not? The Pope to grant our pardon. Child, perhaps Yet both will soon be cold. Oh, plead It is the only ill which can find place And whilst our murderers live, and hard, cold men, |