Now by Saint Paul I do not think that they will let him speak.
JEPPO VITELLOZZO
There is much in this, listen.
DUCHESS
Wherefore now, Throw ashes on the head of Padua, With sable banners hang each silent street, Let every man be clad in solemn black;
But ere we turn to these sad rites of mourning Let us bethink us of the desperate hand Which wrought and brought this ruin on our state, And straightway pack him to that narrow house, Where no voice is, but with a little dust Death fills right up the lying mouths of men.
GUIDO
Unhand me, knaves! I tell thee, my Lord Justice, Thou mightst as well bid the untrammelled ocean, The winter whirlwind, or the Alpine storm, Not roar their will, as bid me hold my peace!
Ay! though ye put your knives into my throat, Each grim and gaping wound shall find a tongue, And cry against you.
LORD JUSTICE
Sir, this violence Avails you nothing; for save the tribunal Give thee a lawful right to open speech, Naught that thou sayest can be credited.
[The DUCHESS smiles and GUIDO falls back with a gesture of despair.]
Madam, myself, and these wise Justices, Will with your Grace's sanction now retire Into another chamber, to decide Upon this difficult matter of the law, And search the statutes and the precedents.
DUCHESS
Go, my Lord Justice, search the statutes well, Nor let this brawling traitor have his way.
MORANZONE
Go, my Lord Justice, search thy conscience well, Nor let a man be sent to death unheard.
[Exit the LORD JUSTICE and the Judges.]
DUCHESS
Silence, thou evil genius of my life!
Thou com'st between us two a second time;
This time, my lord, I think the turn is mine.
GUIDO
I shall not die till I have uttered voice.
DUCHESS
Thou shalt die silent, and thy secret with thee.
GUIDO
Art thou that Beatrice, Duchess of Padua?
DUCHESS
I am what thou hast made me; look at me well, I am thy handiwork.
MAFFIO
See, is she not Like that white tigress which we saw at Venice, Sent by some Indian soldan to the Doge?
JEPPO
Hush! she may hear thy chatter.
HEADSMAN
My young fellow, I do not know why thou shouldst care to speak, Seeing my axe is close upon thy neck, And words of thine will never blunt its edge.
But if thou art so bent upon it, why Thou mightest plead unto the Churchman yonder:
The common people call him kindly here, Indeed I know he has a kindly soul.
GUIDO
This man, whose trade is death, hath courtesies More than the others.
HEADSMAN
Why, God love you, sir, I'll do you your last service on this earth.
GUIDO
My good Lord Cardinal, in a Christian land, With Lord Christ's face of mercy looking down From the high seat of Judgment, shall a man Die unabsolved, unshrived? And if not so, May I not tell this dreadful tale of sin, If any sin there be upon my soul?
DUCHESS
Thou dost but waste thy time.
CARDINAL
Alack, my son, I have no power with the secular arm.
My task begins when justice has been done, To urge the wavering sinner to repent And to confess to Holy Church's ear The dreadful secrets of a sinful mind.
DUCHESS
Thou mayest speak to the confessional Until thy lips grow weary of their tale, But here thou shalt not speak.
GUIDO
My reverend father, You bring me but cold comfort.
CARDINAL
Nay, my son, For the great power of our mother Church, Ends not with this poor bubble of a world, Of which we are but dust, as Jerome saith, For if the sinner doth repentant die, Our prayers and holy masses much avail To bring the guilty soul from purgatory.
DUCHESS
And when in purgatory thou seest my Lord With that red star of blood upon his heart, Tell him I sent thee hither.
GUIDO
O dear God!
MORANZONE
This is the woman, is it, whom you loved?
CARDINAL
Your Grace is very cruel to this man.
DUCHESS
No more than he was cruel to her Grace.
CARDINAL
Yet mercy is the sovereign right of princes.
DUCHESS
I got no mercy, and I give it not.
He hath changed my heart into a heart of stone, He hath sown rank nettles in a goodly field, He hath poisoned the wells of pity in my breast, He hath withered up all kindness at the root;
My life is as some famine murdered land, Whence all good things have perished utterly:
I am what he hath made me.
[The DUCHESS weeps.]
JEPPO
Is it not strange That she should so have loved the wicked Duke?
MAFFIO
It is most strange when women love their lords, And when they love them not it is most strange.
JEPPO
What a philosopher thou art, Petrucci!
MAFFIO
Ay! I can bear the ills of other men, Which is philosophy.
DUCHESS
They tarry long, These greybeards and their council; bid them come;
Bid them come quickly, else I think my heart Will beat itself to bursting: not indeed, That I here care to live; God knows my life Is not so full of joy, yet, for all that, I would not die companionless, or go Lonely to Hell.
Look, my Lord Cardinal, Canst thou not see across my forehead here, In scarlet letters writ, the word Revenge?
Fetch me some water, I will wash it off:
'Twas branded there last night, but in the day-time I need not wear it, need I, my Lord Cardinal?
Oh, how it sears and burns into my brain:
Give me a knife; not that one, but another, And I will cut it out.
CARDINAL
It is most natural To be incensed against the murderous hand That treacherously stabbed your sleeping lord.
DUCHESS
I would, old Cardinal, I could burn that hand;
But it will burn hereafter.
CARDINAL
Nay, the Church Ordains us to forgive our enemies.
DUCHESS
Forgiveness? what is that? I never got it.
They come at last: well, my Lord Justice, well.
[Enter the LORD JUSTICE.]
LORD JUSTICE
Most gracious Lady, and our sovereign Liege, We have long pondered on the point at issue, And much considered of your Grace's wisdom, And never wisdom spake from fairer lips -
DUCHESS
Proceed, sir, without compliment.
LORD JUSTICE
