Scene VIII.
The Prince, Marinelli, Odoardo, Emilia.
PRINCE (entering).
What means this? Is Emilia not well?
ODOARDO.
Very well, very well.
PRINCE (approaching her.)
What do I see? Oh, horror!
MARINELLI.
I am lost!
PRINCE.
Cruel father, what hast thou done.
ODOARDO.
Broken a rose before the storm had robbed it of its bloom. Said you not so, my daughter?
EMILIA.
Not you, my father. I, I myself----
ODOARDO.
Not thou my daughter--not thou! Quit not this world with falsehood on thy lips. Not thou, my daughter--thy father, thy unfortunate father.
EMILIA.
Ah!--My father----(Dies in his arms. He lays her gently on the floor.)
ODOARDO.
Ascend on high! There, Prince! Does she still charm you? Does she still rouse your appetites?--here, weltering in her blood--which cries for vengeance against you. (After a pause.) Doubtless you wait to see the end of this. You expect, perhaps, that I shall turn the steel against myself, and finish the deed like some wretched tragedy. You are mistaken. There! (Throws the dagger at his feet.) There lies the blood-stained witness of my crime. I go to deliver myself into the hands of justice. I go to meet you as my judge: then I shall meet you in another world, before the Judge of all. (Exit.)
PRINCE (after a pause, during which he surveys the body with a look of horror and despair, turns to Marinelli).
Here! Raise her. How! Dost thou hesitate? Wretch! Villain! (Tears the dagger from his grasp.) No. Thy blood shall not be mixed with such as this. Go: hide thyself for ever. Begone, I say. Oh God! Oh God! Is it not enough for the misery of many that monarchs are men? Must devils in disguise become their friends?