TERTIUM QUID sees no reason for assuming that the wrong is altogether on either side, and reviews the circumstances in such a manner as to show that there is probably right on both.  He lays stress on the expediency of judging the Comparini by the morals of their class, and Count Guido by the peculiarities of his own nature; admits the punishment of the wife and parents to have been excessive, and cannot admit it to have been unprovoked; does not pretend to decide between the conflicting statements, and does not consider that Pompilia’s dying confession throws much light upon them; seeing that it may be equally true, or false, or neutralized by another reserved for the priest’s ear.  Does not regard putting the Count to the torture as the right mode of eliciting the truth:  because he may be innocent.  But declares that if he does not deserve to undergo the torture, no one ever did or will.  Tertium Quid is sometimes flippant in tone, and his neutral attitude seems chiefly the result of indifference or of caution.  He is addressing himself to a Highness and an Excellency, and is careful not to shock the prejudices of either.  Still, his statement is the nearest approach to a judicial summing up of which the nature of the work admits.

Mr. Browning now enters on the constructive part of his work.  He puts the personages of the drama themselves before us, allowing each to plead his or her own cause.  The imaginary occasion is that of Count Guido’s trial; and all the depositions which were made on the previous one are transferred to this.  The author has been obliged in every case to build up the character from the evidence, and to re-mould and expand the evidence in conformity with the character.  The motive, feeling, and circumstance set forth by each separate speaker are thus in some degree fictitious; but they are always founded upon fact; and the literal truth of a vast number of details is self-evident.  We first hear: 

COUNT GUIDO FRANCESCHINI.  He has been caught red-handed from the murder of his wife.  His crime is patent.  He has himself confessed it under torture.  His only hope of reprieve lies in the colour which he may be able to impart to it; and his speech is cunningly adapted to the nature of the Court, and to the moral and mental constitution of those of whom it is composed.  His judges are churchmen:  neutral on the subject of marriage; rather coarsely masculine in their idea of the destiny of women.  He does not profess to have entertained any affection for his wife.  He derides the idea of having ill-used her, and thinks she might have liked him better if he had done so, instead of threatening her into good behaviour like a naughty child, with hair powder for poison, and a wooden toy for a sword; has no doubt that, if she had cared to warm his heart, some smouldering embers within it might still have burst into flame; but admits once for all that there was no question of feeling in the case; it was a bargain on both sides, and a fair one as far as he was concerned.