BEATRICE:
What ’twas weak to do,
’Tis weaker to lament, once being done;
Take cheer! The God who knew my wrong, and made
Our speedy act the angel of His wrath,
Seems, and but seems, to have abandoned us. _115
Let us not think that we shall die for this.
Brother, sit near me; give me your firm hand,
You had a manly heart. Bear up! Bear up!
O dearest Lady, put your gentle head
Upon my lap, and try to sleep awhile: _120
Your eyes look pale, hollow, and overworn,
With heaviness of watching and slow grief.
Come, I will sing you some low, sleepy tune,
Not cheerful, nor yet sad; some dull old thing,
Some outworn and unused monotony, _125
Such as our country gossips sing and spin,
Till they almost forget they live: lie down!
So, that will do. Have I forgot the words?
Faith! They are sadder than I thought they were.
SONG:
False friend, wilt thou smile or weep _130
When my life is laid asleep?
Little cares for a smile or a tear,
The clay-cold corpse upon the bier!
Farewell! Heighho!
What is this whispers low? _135
There is a snake in thy smile, my dear;
And bitter poison within thy tear.
Sweet sleep, were death like to thee,
Or if thou couldst mortal be,
I would close these eyes of pain; _140
When to wake? Never again.
O World! Farewell!
Listen to the passing bell!
It says, thou and I must part,
With a light and a heavy heart. _145
[THE SCENE CLOSES.]
SCENE 5.4: A HALL OF THE PRISON. ENTER CAMILLO AND BERNARDO.
CAMILLO:
The Pope is stern; not to be moved or bent.
He looked as calm and keen as is the engine
Which tortures and which kills, exempt itself
From aught that it inflicts; a marble form,
A rite, a law, a custom: not a man. _5
He frowned, as if to frown had been the trick
Of his machinery, on the advocates
Presenting the defences, which he tore
And threw behind, muttering with hoarse, harsh voice:
‘Which among ye defended their old father _10
Killed in his sleep?’ Then to another: ‘Thou
Dost this in virtue of thy place; ’tis well.’
He turned to me then, looking deprecation,
And said these three words, coldly: ‘They must die.’
BERNARDO:
And yet you left him not?
CAMILLO:
I urged him still; _15
Pleading, as I could guess, the devilish wrong
Which prompted your unnatural parent’s death.
And he replied: ‘Paolo Santa Croce
Murdered his mother yester evening,
And he is fled. Parricide grows so rife _20
That soon, for some just cause no doubt, the young
Will strangle us all, dozing in our chairs.
Authority, and power, and hoary hair
Are grown crimes capital. You are my nephew,
You come to ask their pardon; stay a moment; _25
Here is their sentence; never see me more
Till, to the letter, it be all fulfilled.’
BERNARDO:
O God, not so! I did believe indeed
That all you said was but sad preparation
For happy news. Oh, there are words and looks _30
To bend the sternest purpose! Once I knew them,
Now I forget them at my dearest need.
What think you if I seek him out, and bathe
His feet and robe with hot and bitter tears?
Importune him with prayers, vexing his brain _35
With my perpetual cries, until in rage
He strike me with his pastoral cross, and trample
Upon my prostrate head, so that my blood
May stain the senseless dust on which he treads,
And remorse waken mercy? I will do it! _40
Oh, wait till I return!