MARZIO:
Oh!
Spare me! My brain swims round…I cannot speak…
It was that horrid torture forced the truth.
Take me away! Let her not look on me! _90
I am a guilty miserable wretch;
I have said all I know; now, let me die!
BEATRICE:
My Lords, if by my nature I had been
So stern, as to have planned the crime alleged,
Which your suspicions dictate to this slave, _95
And the rack makes him utter, do you think
I should have left this two-edged instrument
Of my misdeed; this man, this bloody knife
With my own name engraven on the heft,
Lying unsheathed amid a world of foes, _100
For my own death? That with such horrible need
For deepest silence, I should have neglected
So trivial a precaution, as the making
His tomb the keeper of a secret written
On a thief’s memory? What is his poor life? _105
What are a thousand lives? A parricide
Had trampled them like dust; and, see, he lives!
[TURNING TO MARZIO.]
And thou…
MARZIO:
Oh, spare me! Speak to me no more!
That stern yet piteous look, those solemn tones,
Wound worse than torture.
[TO THE JUDGES.]
I have told it all; _110
For pity’s sake lead me away to death.
CAMILLO:
Guards, lead him nearer the Lady Beatrice;
He shrinks from her regard like autumn’s leaf
From the keen breath of the serenest north.
BEATRICE:
O thou who tremblest on the giddy verge _115
Of life and death, pause ere thou answerest me;
So mayst thou answer God with less dismay:
What evil have we done thee? I, alas!
Have lived but on this earth a few sad years,
And so my lot was ordered, that a father _120
First turned the moments of awakening life
To drops, each poisoning youth’s sweet hope; and then
Stabbed with one blow my everlasting soul;
And my untainted fame; and even that peace
Which sleeps within the core of the heart’s heart; _125
But the wound was not mortal; so my hate
Became the only worship I could lift
To our great father, who in pity and love,
Armed thee, as thou dost say, to cut him off;
And thus his wrong becomes my accusation; _130
And art thou the accuser? If thou hopest
Mercy in heaven, show justice upon earth:
Worse than a bloody hand is a hard heart.
If thou hast done murders, made thy life’s path
Over the trampled laws of God and man, _135
Rush not before thy Judge, and say: ‘My maker,
I have done this and more; for there was one
Who was most pure and innocent on earth;
And because she endured what never any
Guilty or innocent endured before: _140
Because her wrongs could not be told, not thought;
Because thy hand at length did rescue her;
I with my words killed her and all her kin.’
Think, I adjure you, what it is to slay
The reverence living in the minds of men _145
Towards our ancient house, and stainless fame!
Think what it is to strangle infant pity,
Cradled in the belief of guileless looks,
Till it become a crime to suffer. Think
What ’tis to blot with infamy and blood _150
All that which shows like innocence, and is,
Hear me, great God! I swear, most innocent,
So that the world lose all discrimination
Between the sly, fierce, wild regard of guilt,
And that which now compels thee to reply _155
To what I ask: Am I, or am I not
A parricide?
MARZIO:
Thou art not!
JUDGE:
What is this?
MARZIO:
I here declare those whom I did accuse
Are innocent. ’Tis I alone am guilty.
JUDGE:
Drag him away to torments; let them be _160
Subtle and long drawn out, to tear the folds
Of the heart’s inmost cell. Unbind him not
Till he confess.
MARZIO:
Torture me as ye will:
A keener pang has wrung a higher truth
From my last breath. She is most innocent! _165
Bloodhounds, not men, glut yourselves well with me;
I will not give you that fine piece of nature
To rend and ruin.