Lor. Indeed, good master, on my knees
I swear that what I said is sainted truth.
Gia. Pshaw, pshaw, no more of this. Did I not go
Upon the instant to my daughter's room
And find Bernardo sleeping at her side?
Some villain's gold hath bribed thee unto this.
Go, go.
Lor. Well, if it must be, then it must.
But I would swear that what I said is truth,
Though all the devils from the deepest pit
Should rise to contradict me!
Gia. Prating still?
Lor. No, signor—I am going—stay—see here—
(He draws a paper from his bosom.)
Oh, blessed Virgin, grant some proof in this!
This paper as they changed their mantles dropt
Between them to the ground, and when they passed
I picked it up and placed it safely here.
Gia. (Examining it.)
Who forged the lie could fabricate this too:—
But hold, it is ingeniously done.
Get to thy duties, sir, and mark me well,
Let no word pass thy lips about the matter—
[Exit Lorenzo.
Bernardo's very hand indeed is here!
Oh, compact villainous and black! conditions,
The means, the hour, the signal—every thing
To rob my honor of its holiest pearl!
Lorenzo, shallow fool—he does not guess
The mischief was all done, and that it was
The duke he saw departing—oh, brain—brain!
How shall I hold this river of my wrath!
It must not burst—no, rather it shall sweep
A noiseless maelstrom, whirling to its center
All thoughts and plans to further my revenge
And rid me of this most accursed blot!