The Cenci: Act 4
SCENE 4.1:
AN APARTMENT IN THE CASTLE OF PETRELLA. ENTER CENCI.
CENCI:
She comes not; yet I left her even now Vanquished and faint. She knows the penalty Of her delay: yet what if threats are vain? Am I not now within Petrella's moat? Or fear I still the eyes and ears of Rome? _5 Might I not drag her by the golden hair? Stamp on her? keep her sleepless till her brain Be overworn? Tame her with chains and famine? Less would suffice. Yet so to leave undone What I most seek! No, 'tis her stubborn will _10 Which by its own consent shall stoop as low As that which drags it down. [ENTER LUCRETIA.] Thou loathed wretch! Hide thee from my abhorrence: fly, begone! Yet stay! Bid Beatrice come hither.
NOTE:
_4 not now edition 1821; now not edition 1819.
LUCRETIA:
Oh, Husband! I pray, for thine own wretched sake _15 Heed what thou dost. A man who walks like thee Through crimes, and through the danger of his crimes, Each hour may stumble o'er a sudden grave. And thou art old; thy hairs are hoary gray; As thou wouldst save thyself from death and hell, _20 Pity thy daughter; give her to some friend In marriage: so that she may tempt thee not To hatred, or worse thoughts, if worse there be.
CENCI:
What! like her sister who has found a home To mock my hate from with prosperity? _25 Strange ruin shall destroy both her and thee And all that yet remain. My death may be Rapid, her destiny outspeeds it. Go, Bid her come hither, and before my mood Be changed, lest I should drag her by the hair. _30
LUCRETIA:
She sent me to thee, husband. At thy presence She fell, as thou dost know, into a trance; And in that trance she heard a voice which said, 'Cenci must die! Let him confess himself! Even now the accusing Angel waits to hear _35 If God, to punish his enormous crimes, Harden his dying heart!'
CENCI:
Why--such things are... No doubt divine revealings may be made. 'Tis plain I have been favoured from above, For when I cursed my sons they died.--Ay...so... _40 As to the right or wrong, that's talk...repentance... Repentance is an easy moment's work And more depends on God than me. Well...well... I must give up the greater point, which was To poison and corrupt her soul. [A PAUSE, LUCRETIA APPROACHES ANXIOUSLY, AND THEN SHRINKS BACK AS HE SPEAKS.] One, two; _45 Ay...Rocco and Cristofano my curse Strangled: and Giacomo, I think, will find Life a worse Hell than that beyond the grave: Beatrice shall, if there be skill in hate, Die in despair, blaspheming: to Bernardo, _50 He is so innocent, I will bequeath The memory of these deeds, and make his youth The sepulchre of hope, where evil thoughts Shall grow like weeds on a neglected tomb. When all is done, out in the wide Campagna, _55 I will pile up my silver and my gold; My costly robes, paintings, and tapestries; My parchments and all records of my wealth, And make a bonfire in my joy, and leave Of my possessions nothing but my name; _60 Which shall be an inheritance to strip Its wearer bare as infamy. That done, My soul, which is a scourge, will I resign Into the hands of him who wielded it; Be it for its own punishment or theirs, _65 He will not ask it of me till the lash Be broken in its last and deepest wound; Until its hate be all inflicted. Yet, Lest death outspeed my purpose, let me make Short work and sure...
[GOING.]
LUCRETIA [STOPS HIM]:
Oh, stay! It was a feint: _70 She had no vision, and she heard no voice. I said it but to awe thee.
CENCI:
That is well. Vile palterer with the sacred truth of God, Be thy soul choked with that blaspheming lie! For Beatrice worse terrors are in store _75 To bend her to my will.
LUCRETIA:
Oh! to what will? What cruel sufferings more than she has known Canst thou inflict?
CENCI:
Andrea! Go call my daughter, And if she comes not tell her that I come. What sufferings? I will drag her, step by step, _80 Through infamies unheard of among men: She shall stand shelterless in the broad noon Of public scorn, for acts blazoned abroad, One among which shall be...What? Canst thou guess? She shall become (for what she most abhors _85 Shall have a fascination to entrap Her loathing will) to her own conscious self All she appears to others; and when dead, As she shall die unshrived and unforgiven, A rebel to her father and her God, _90 Her corpse shall be abandoned to the hounds; Her name shall be the terror of the earth; Her spirit shall approach the throne of God Plague-spotted with my curses. I will make Body and soul a monstrous lump of ruin. _95
[ENTER ANDREA.]
ANDREA:
The Lady Beatrice...
CENCI:
Speak, pale slave! What Said she?
ANDREA:
My Lord, 'twas what she looked; she said: 'Go tell my father that I see the gulf Of Hell between us two, which he may pass, I will not.'
[EXIT ANDREA.]
CENCI:
Go thou quick, Lucretia, _100 Tell her to come; yet let her understand Her coming is consent: and say, moreover, That if she come not I will curse her. [EXIT LUCRETIA.] Ha! With what but with a father's curse doth God Panic-strike armed victory, and make pale _105 Cities in their prosperity? The world's Father Must grant a parent's prayer against his child, Be he who asks even what men call me. Will not the deaths of her rebellious brothers Awe her before I speak? For I on them _110 Did imprecate quick ruin, and it came. [ENTER LUCRETIA.] Well; what? Speak, wretch!
LUCRETIA:
She said, 'I cannot come; Go tell my father that I see a torrent Of his own blood raging between us.'
CENCI [KNEELING]:
God, Hear me! If this most specious mass of flesh, _115 Which Thou hast made my daughter; this my blood, This particle of my divided being; Or rather, this my bane and my disease, Whose sight infects and poisons me; this devil Which sprung from me as from a hell, was meant _120 To aught good use; if her bright loveliness Was kindled to illumine this dark world; If nursed by Thy selectest dew of love Such virtues blossom in her as should make The peace of life, I pray Thee for my sake, _125 As Thou the common God and Father art Of her, and me, and all; reverse that doom! Earth, in the name of God, let her food be Poison, until she be encrusted round With leprous stains! Heaven, rain upon her head _130 The blistering drops of the Maremma's dew, Till she be speckled like a toad; parch up Those love-enkindled lips, warp those fine limbs To loathed lameness! All-beholding sun, Strike in thine envy those life-darting eyes _135 With thine own blinding beams!
LUCRETIA:
Peace! Peace! For thine own sake unsay those dreadful words. When high God grants He punishes such prayers.
CENCI [LEAPING UP, AND THROWING HIS RIGHT HAND TOWARDS HEAVEN]:
He does his will, I mine! This in addition, That if she have a child...
LUCRETIA:
Horrible thought! _140
CENCI:
That if she ever have a child; and thou, Quick Nature! I adjure thee by thy God, That thou be fruitful in her, and increase And multiply, fulfilling his command, And my deep imprecation! May it be _145 A hideous likeness of herself, that as From a distorting mirror, she may see Her image mixed with what she most abhors, Smiling upon her from her nursing breast. And that the child may from its infancy _150 Grow, day by day, more wicked and deformed, Turning her mother's love to misery: And that both she and it may live until It shall repay her care and pain with hate, Or what may else be more unnatural. _155 So he may hunt her through the clamorous scoffs Of the loud world to a dishonoured grave. Shall I revoke this curse? Go, bid her come, Before my words are chronicled in Heaven. [EXIT LUCRETIA.] I do not feel as if I were a man, _160 But like a fiend appointed to chastise The offences of some unremembered world. My blood is running up and down my veins; A fearful pleasure makes it prick and tingle: I feel a giddy sickness of strange awe; _165 My heart is beating with an expectation Of horrid joy. [ENTER LUCRETIA.] What? Speak!
LUCRETIA:
She bids thee curse; And if thy curses, as they cannot do, Could kill her soul...
CENCI:
She would not come. 'Tis well, I can do both; first take what I demand, _170 And then extort concession. To thy chamber! Fly ere I spurn thee; and beware this night That thou cross not my footsteps. It were safer To come between the tiger and his prey. [EXIT LUCRETIA.] It must be late; mine eyes grow weary dim _175 With unaccustomed heaviness of sleep. Conscience! Oh, thou most insolent of lies! They say that sleep, that healing dew of Heaven, Steeps not in balm the foldings of the brain Which thinks thee an impostor. I will go _180 First to belie thee with an hour of rest, Which will be deep and calm, I feel: and then... O, multitudinous Hell, the fiends will shake Thine arches with the laughter of their joy! There shall be lamentation heard in Heaven _185 As o'er an angel fallen; and upon Earth All good shall droop and sicken, and ill things Shall with a spirit of unnatural life, Stir and be quickened...even as I am now.
[EXIT.]
SCENE 4.2:
BEFORE THE CASTLE OF PETRELLA. ENTER BEATRICE AND LUCRETIA ABOVE ON THE RAMPARTS.
BEATRICE:
They come not yet.
LUCRETIA:
'Tis scarce midnight.
BEATRICE:
How slow Behind the course of thought, even sick with speed, Lags leaden-footed time!
LUCRETIA:
The minutes pass... If he should wake before the deed is done?
BEATRICE:
O, mother! He must never wake again. _5 What thou hast said persuades me that our act Will but dislodge a spirit of deep hell Out of a human form.
LUCRETIA:
'Tis true he spoke Of death and judgement with strange confidence For one so wicked; as a man believing _10 In God, yet recking not of good or ill. And yet to die without confession!...
BEATRICE:
Oh! Believe that Heaven is merciful and just, And will not add our dread necessity To the amount of his offences.
[ENTER OLIMPIO AND MARZIO BELOW.]
LUCRETIA:
See, _15 They come.
BEATRICE:
All mortal things must hasten thus To their dark end. Let us go down.
[EXEUNT LUCRETIA AND BEATRICE FROM ABOVE.]
OLIMPIO:
How feel you to this work?
MARZIO:
As one who thinks A thousand crowns excellent market price For an old murderer's life. Your cheeks are pale. _20
OLIMPIO:
It is the white reflection of your own, Which you call pale.
MARZIO:
Is that their natural hue?
OLIMPIO:
Or 'tis my hate and the deferred desire To wreak it, which extinguishes their blood.
MARZIO:
You are inclined then to this business?
OLIMPIO:
Ay, _25 If one should bribe me with a thousand crowns To kill a serpent which had stung my child, I could not be more willing. [ENTER BEATRICE AND LUCRETIA BELOW.] Noble ladies!
BEATRICE:
Are ye resolved?
OLIMPIO:
Is he asleep?
MARZIO:
Is all Quiet?
LUCRETIA:
I mixed an opiate with his drink: _30 He sleeps so soundly...
BEATRICE:
That his death will be But as a change of sin-chastising dreams, A dark continuance of the Hell within him, Which God extinguish! But ye are resolved? Ye know it is a high and holy deed? _35
OLIMPIO:
We are resolved.
MARZIO:
As to the how this act Be warranted, it rests with you.
BEATRICE:
Well, follow!
OLIMPIO:
Hush! Hark! What noise is that?
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.
LUCRETIA:
My God! If he be now a cold, stiff corpse...
BEATRICE:
O, fear not _5 What may be done, but what is left undone: The act seals all. [ENTER OLIMPIO AND MARZIO.] Is it accomplished?
MARZIO:
What?
OLIMPIO:
Did you not call?
BEATRICE:
When?
OLIMPIO:
Now.
BEATRICE:
I ask if all is over?
OLIMPIO:
We dare not kill an old and sleeping man; His thin gray hair, his stern and reverend brow, _10 His veined hands crossed on his heaving breast, And the calm innocent sleep in which he lay, Quelled me. Indeed, indeed, I cannot do it.
NOTE:
_10 reverendreverent all editions.
MARZIO:
But I was bolder; for I chid Olimpio, And bade him bear his wrongs to his own grave _15 And leave me the reward. And now my knife Touched the loose wrinkled throat, when the old man Stirred in his sleep, and said, 'God! hear, O, hear, A father's curse! What, art Thou not our Father?' And then he laughed. I knew it was the ghost _20 Of my dead father speaking through his lips, And could not kill him.
BEATRICE:
Miserable slaves! Where, if ye dare not kill a sleeping man, Found ye the boldness to return to me With such a deed undone? Base palterers! _25 Cowards and traitors! Why, the very conscience Which ye would sell for gold and for revenge Is an equivocation: it sleeps over A thousand daily acts disgracing men; And when a deed where mercy insults Heaven... _30 Why do I talk? [SNATCHING A DAGGER FROM ONE OF THEM, AND RAISING IT.] Hadst thou a tongue to say, 'She murdered her own father!'--I must do it! But never dream ye shall outlive him long!
OLIMPIO:
Stop, for God's sake!
MARZIO:
I will go back and kill him.
OLIMPIO:
Give me the weapon, we must do thy will. _35
BEATRICE:
Take it! Depart! Return! [EXEUNT OLIMPIO AND MARZIO.] How pale thou art! We do but that which 'twere a deadly crime To leave undone.
LUCRETIA:
Would it were done!
BEATRICE:
Even whilst That doubt is passing through your mind, the world Is conscious of a change. Darkness and Hell _40 Have swallowed up the vapour they sent forth To blacken the sweet light of life. My breath Comes, methinks, lighter, and the jellied blood Runs freely through my veins. Hark! [ENTER OLIMPIO AND MARZIO.] He is...
OLIMPIO:
Dead!
MARZIO:
We strangled him that there might be no blood; _45 And then we threw his heavy corpse i' the garden Under the balcony; 'twill seem it fell.
BEATRICE [GIVING THEM A BAG OF COIN]:
Here, take this gold, and hasten to your homes. And, Marzio, because thou wast only awed By that which made me tremble, wear thou this! _50 [CLOTHES HIM IN A RICH MANTLE.] It was the mantle which my grandfather Wore in his high prosperity, and men Envied his state: so may they envy thine. Thou wert a weapon in the hand of God To a just use. Live long and thrive! And, mark, _55 If thou hast crimes, repent: this deed is none.
[A HORN IS SOUNDED.]
LUCRETIA:
Hark, 'tis the castle horn: my God! it sounds Like the last trump.
BEATRICE:
Some tedious guest is coming.
LUCRETIA:
The drawbridge is let down; there is a tramp Of horses in the court; fly, hide yourselves! _60
[EXEUNT OLIMPIO AND MARZIO.]
BEATRICE:
Let us retire to counterfeit deep rest; I scarcely need to counterfeit it now: The spirit which doth reign within these limbs Seems strangely undisturbed. I could even sleep Fearless and calm: all ill is surely past. _65
[EXEUNT.]
SCENE 4.4:
ANOTHER APARTMENT IN THE CASTLE. ENTER ON ONE SIDE THE LEGATE SAVELLA, INTRODUCED BY A SERVANT, AND ON THE OTHER LUCRETIA AND BERNARDO.
SAVELLA:
Lady, my duty to his Holiness Be my excuse that thus unseasonably I break upon your rest. I must speak with Count Cenci; doth he sleep?
LUCRETIA [IN A HURRIED AND CONFUSED MANNER]:
I think he sleeps; Yet, wake him not, I pray, spare me awhile, _5 He is a wicked and a wrathful man; Should he be roused out of his sleep to-night, Which is, I know, a hell of angry dreams, It were not well; indeed it were not well. Wait till day break... [ASIDE.] Oh, I am deadly sick! _10
NOTE:
_6 a wrathful edition 1821; wrathful editions 1819, 1839.
SAVELLA:
I grieve thus to distress you, but the Count Must answer charges of the gravest import, And suddenly; such my commission is.
LUCRETIA [WITH INCREASED AGITATION]:
I dare not rouse him: I know none who dare... 'Twere perilous;...you might as safely waken _15 A serpent; or a corpse in which some fiend Were laid to sleep.
SAVELLA:
Lady, my moments here Are counted. I must rouse him from his sleep, Since none else dare.
LUCRETIA [ASIDE]:
O, terror! O, despair! [TO BERNARDO.] Bernardo, conduct you the Lord Legate to _20 Your father's chamber.
[EXEUNT SAVELLA AND BERNARDO.]
[ENTER BEATRICE.]
BEATRICE:
'Tis a messenger Come to arrest the culprit who now stands Before the throne of unappealable God. Both Earth and Heaven, consenting arbiters, Acquit our deed.
LUCRETIA:
Oh, agony of fear! _25 Would that he yet might live! Even now I heard The Legate's followers whisper as they passed They had a warrant for his instant death. All was prepared by unforbidden means Which we must pay so dearly, having done. _30 Even now they search the tower, and find the body; Now they suspect the truth; now they consult Before they come to tax us with the fact; O, horrible, 'tis all discovered!
BEATRICE:
Mother, What is done wisely, is done well. Be bold _35 As thou art just. 'Tis like a truant child To fear that others know what thou hast done, Even from thine own strong consciousness, and thus Write on unsteady eyes and altered cheeks All thou wouldst hide. Be faithful to thyself, _40 And fear no other witness but thy fear. For if, as cannot be, some circumstance Should rise in accusation, we can blind Suspicion with such cheap astonishment, Or overbear it with such guiltless pride, _45 As murderers cannot feign. The deed is done, And what may follow now regards not me. I am as universal as the light; Free as the earth-surrounding air; as firm As the world's centre. Consequence, to me, _50 Is as the wind which strikes the solid rock, But shakes it not.
[A CRY WITHIN AND TUMULT.]
VOICES:
Murder! Murder! Murder!
[ENTER BERNARDO AND SAVELLA.]
SAVELLA [TO HIS FOLLOWERS]:
Go search the castle round; sound the alarm; Look to the gates, that none escape!
BEATRICE:
What now?
BERNARDO:
I know not what to say...my father's dead. _55
BEATRICE:
How; dead! he only sleeps; you mistake, brother. His sleep is very calm, very like death; 'Tis wonderful how well a tyrant sleeps. He is not dead?
BERNARDO:
Dead; murdered.
LUCRETIA [WITH EXTREME AGITATION]:
Oh no, no! He is not murdered though he may be dead; _60 I have alone the keys of those apartments.
SAVELLA:
Ha! Is it so?
BEATRICE:
My Lord, I pray excuse us; We will retire; my mother is not well: She seems quite overcome with this strange horror.
[EXEUNT LUCRETIA AND BEATRICE.]
SAVELLA:
Can you suspect who may have murdered him? _65
BERNARDO:
I know not what to think.
SAVELLA:
Can you name any Who had an interest in his death?
BERNARDO:
Alas! I can name none who had not, and those most Who most lament that such a deed is done; My mother, and my sister, and myself. _70
SAVELLA:
'Tis strange! There were clear marks of violence. I found the old man's body in the moonlight Hanging beneath the window of his chamber, Among the branches of a pine: he could not Have fallen there, for all his limbs lay heaped _75 And effortless; 'tis true there was no blood... Favour me, Sir; it much imports your house That all should be made clear; to tell the ladies That I request their presence.
[EXIT BERNARDO.]
[ENTER GUARDS, BRINGING IN MARZIO.]
GUARD:
We have one.
OFFICER:
My Lord, we found this ruffian and another _80 Lurking among the rocks; there is no doubt But that they are the murderers of Count Cenci: Each had a bag of coin; this fellow wore A gold-inwoven robe, which, shining bright Under the dark rocks to the glimmering moon _85 Betrayed them to our notice: the other fell Desperately fighting.
SAVELLA:
What does he confess?
OFFICER:
He keeps firm silence; but these lines found on him May speak.
SAVELLA:
Their language is at least sincere. [READS.] 'To the Lady Beatrice. _90 That the atonement of what my nature sickens to conjecture may soon arrive, I send thee, at thy brother's desire, those who will speak and do more than I dare write... 'Thy devoted servant, Orsino.' [ENTER LUCRETIA, BEATRICE, AND BERNARDO.] Knowest thou this writing, Lady?
BEATRICE:
No.
SAVELLA:
Nor thou? _95
LUCRETIA [HER CONDUCT THROUGHOUT THE SCENE IS MARKED BY EXTREME AGITATION]:
Where was it found? What is it? It should be Orsino's hand! It speaks of that strange horror Which never yet found utterance, but which made Between that hapless child and her dead father A gulf of obscure hatred.
SAVELLA:
Is it so? _100 Is it true, Lady, that thy father did Such outrages as to awaken in thee Unfilial hate?
BEATRICE:
Not hate, 'twas more than hate: This is most true, yet wherefore question me?
SAVELLA:
There is a deed demanding question done; _105 Thou hast a secret which will answer not.
BEATRICE:
What sayest? My Lord, your words are bold and rash.
SAVELLA:
I do arrest all present in the name Of the Pope's Holiness. You must to Rome.
LUCRETIA:
O, not to Rome! Indeed we are not guilty. _110
BEATRICE:
Guilty! Who dares talk of guilt? My Lord, I am more innocent of parricide Than is a child born fatherless...Dear mother, Your gentleness and patience are no shield For this keen-judging world, this two-edged lie, _115 Which seems, but is not. What! will human laws, Rather will ye who are their ministers, Bar all access to retribution first, And then, when Heaven doth interpose to do What ye neglect, arming familiar things _120 To the redress of an unwonted crime, Make ye the victims who demanded it Culprits? 'Tis ye are culprits! That poor wretch Who stands so pale, and trembling, and amazed, If it be true he murdered Cenci, was _125 A sword in the right hand of justest God. Wherefore should I have wielded it? Unless The crimes which mortal tongue dare never name God therefore scruples to avenge.
SAVELLA:
You own That you desired his death?
BEATRICE:
It would have been _130 A crime no less than his, if for one moment That fierce desire had faded in my heart. 'Tis true I did believe, and hope, and pray, Ay, I even knew...for God is wise and just, That some strange sudden death hung over him. _135 'Tis true that this did happen, and most true There was no other rest for me on earth, No other hope in Heaven...now what of this?
SAVELLA:
Strange thoughts beget strange deeds; and here are both: I judge thee not.
BEATRICE:
And yet, if you arrest me, _140 You are the judge and executioner Of that which is the life of life: the breath Of accusation kills an innocent name, And leaves for lame acquittal the poor life Which is a mask without it. 'Tis most false _145 That I am guilty of foul parricide; Although I must rejoice, for justest cause, That other hands have sent my father's soul To ask the mercy he denied to me. Now leave us free; stain not a noble house _150 With vague surmises of rejected crime; Add to our sufferings and your own neglect No heavier sum: let them have been enough: Leave us the wreck we have.
SAVELLA:
I dare not, Lady. I pray that you prepare yourselves for Rome: _155 There the Pope's further pleasure will be known.
LUCRETIA:
O, not to Rome! O, take us not to Rome!
BEATRICE:
Why not to Rome, dear mother? There as here Our innocence is as an armed heel To trample accusation. God is there _160 As here, and with His shadow ever clothes The innocent, the injured and the weak; And such are we. Cheer up, dear Lady, lean On me; collect your wandering thoughts. My Lord, As soon as you have taken some refreshment, _165 And had all such examinations made Upon the spot, as may be necessary To the full understanding of this matter, We shall be ready. Mother; will you come?
LUCRETIA:
Ha! they will bind us to the rack, and wrest _170 Self-accusation from our agony! Will Giacomo be there? Orsino? Marzio? All present; all confronted; all demanding Each from the other's countenance the thing Which is in every heart! O, misery! _175
[SHE FAINTS, AND IS BORNE OUT.]
SAVELLA:
She faints: an ill appearance this.
BEATRICE:
My Lord, She knows not yet the uses of the world. She fears that power is as a beast which grasps And loosens not: a snake whose look transmutes All things to guilt which is its nutriment. _180 She cannot know how well the supine slaves Of blind authority read the truth of things When written on a brow of guilelessness: She sees not yet triumphant Innocence Stand at the judgement-seat of mortal man, _185 A judge and an accuser of the wrong Which drags it there. Prepare yourself, my Lord; Our suite will join yours in the court below.
[EXEUNT.]
END OF ACT 4.
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