MARZIO:
Ha! some one comes!
BEATRICE:
Ye conscience-stricken cravens, rock to rest
Your baby hearts. It is the iron gate, _40
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.]
SCENE 4.3: 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.
BEATRICE:
He will not groan.
LUCRETIA:
What sound is that?
BEATRICE:
List! ’tis the tread of feet
About his bed.