A GUEST [RISING]: 
Thou wretch! 90
Will none among this noble company
Check the abandoned villain?

CAMILLO: 
For God’s sake,
Let me dismiss the guests!  You are insane,
Some ill will come of this.

SECOND GUEST: 
Seize, silence him!

FIRST GUEST: 
I will!

THIRD GUEST: 
And I!

CENCI [ADDRESSING THOSE WHO RISE WITH A THREATENING GESTURE]: 
Who moves?  Who speaks?
[TURNING TO THE COMPANY.]
’tis nothing, 95
Enjoy yourselves.—­Beware!  For my revenge
Is as the sealed commission of a king
That kills, and none dare name the murderer.

[THE BANQUET IS BROKEN UP; SEVERAL OF THE GUESTS ARE DEPARTING.]

BEATRICE: 
I do entreat you, go not, noble guests;
What, although tyranny and impious hate 100
Stand sheltered by a father’s hoary hair? 
What if ’tis he who clothed us in these limbs
Who tortures them, and triumphs?  What, if we,
The desolate and the dead, were his own flesh,
His children and his wife, whom he is bound 105
To love and shelter?  Shall we therefore find
No refuge in this merciless wide world? 
O think what deep wrongs must have blotted out
First love, then reverence in a child’s prone mind,
Till it thus vanquish shame and fear!  O think! 110
I have borne much, and kissed the sacred hand
Which crushed us to the earth, and thought its stroke
Was perhaps some paternal chastisement! 
Have excused much, doubted; and when no doubt
Remained, have sought by patience, love, and tears 115
To soften him, and when this could not be
I have knelt down through the long sleepless nights
And lifted up to God, the Father of all,
Passionate prayers:  and when these were not heard
I have still borne,—­until I meet you here, 120
Princes and kinsmen, at this hideous feast
Given at my brothers’ deaths.  Two yet remain,
His wife remains and I, whom if ye save not,
Ye may soon share such merriment again
As fathers make over their children’s graves. 125
O Prince Colonna, thou art our near kinsman,
Cardinal, thou art the Pope’s chamberlain,
Camillo, thou art chief justiciary,
Take us away!

CENCI [HE HAS BEEN CONVERSING WITH CAMILLO DURING THE FIRST PART OF
BEATRICE’S SPEECH; HE HEARS THE CONCLUSION, AND NOW ADVANCES]: 
I hope my good friends here
Will think of their own daughters—­or perhaps 130
Of their own throats—­before they lend an ear
To this wild girl.