Marzio.—My God! I did not kill him; I know nothing; Olimpio sold the robe to me from which You would infer my guilt.
Second Judge.—Away with him!
First Judge.—Dare you, with lips yet white from the rack's kiss Speak false? Is it so soft a questioner, That you would bandy lovers' talk with it Till it wind out your life and soul? Away!
Marzio.—Spare me! O, spare! I will confess.
First Judge.—Then speak.
Marzio.—I strangled him in his sleep.
First Judge.—Who urged you to it?
Marzio.—His own son, Giacomo, and the young prelate Orsino sent me to Petrella; there The ladies Beatrice and Lucretia Tempted me with a thousand crowns, and I And my companion forthwith murdered him. Now let me die.
First Judge.—This sounds as bad as truth. Guards, there, Lead forth the prisoner!
Enter Lucretia, Beatrice, Giacomo, guarded.