[ENTER CENCI, SUDDENLY.]

CENCI: 
What!  Beatrice here! 
Come hither!
[SHE SHRINKS BACK, AND COVERS HER FACE.]
Nay, hide not your face, ’tis fair; 105
Look up!  Why, yesternight you dared to look
With disobedient insolence upon me,
Bending a stern and an inquiring brow
On what I meant; whilst I then sought to hide
That which I came to tell you—­but in vain. 110

BEATRICE [WILDLY STAGGERING TOWARDS THE DOOR]: 
Oh, that the earth would gape!  Hide me, O God!

CENCI: 
Then it was I whose inarticulate words
Fell from my lips, and who with tottering steps
Fled from your presence, as you now from mine. 
Stay, I command you—­from this day and hour 115
Never again, I think, with fearless eye,
And brow superior, and unaltered cheek,
And that lip made for tenderness or scorn,
Shalt thou strike dumb the meanest of mankind;
Me least of all.  Now get thee to thy chamber! 120
Thou too, loathed image of thy cursed mother,
[TO BERNARDO.]
Thy milky, meek face makes me sick with hate!
[EXEUNT BEATRICE AND BERNARDO.]
[ASIDE.]
So much has passed between us as must make
Me bold, her fearful.—­’Tis an awful thing
To touch such mischief as I now conceive:  125
So men sit shivering on the dewy bank,
And try the chill stream with their feet; once in... 
How the delighted spirit pants for joy!

LUCRETIA [ADVANCING TIMIDLY TOWARDS HIM]: 
O husband!  Pray forgive poor Beatrice. 
She meant not any ill.

CENCI: 
Nor you perhaps? 130
Nor that young imp, whom you have taught by rote
Parricide with his alphabet?  Nor Giacomo? 
Nor those two most unnatural sons, who stirred
Enmity up against me with the Pope? 
Whom in one night merciful God cut off:  135
Innocent lambs!  They thought not any ill. 
You were not here conspiring?  You said nothing
Of how I might be dungeoned as a madman;
Or be condemned to death for some offence,
And you would be the witnesses?—­This failing, 140
How just it were to hire assassins, or
Put sudden poison in my evening drink? 
Or smother me when overcome by wine? 
Seeing we had no other judge but God,
And He had sentenced me, and there were none 145
But you to be the executioners
Of His decree enregistered in heaven? 
Oh, no!  You said not this?

LUCRETIA: 
So help me God,
I never thought the things you charge me with!

CENCI: 
If you dare to speak that wicked lie again 150
I’ll kill you.  What!  It was not by your counsel
That Beatrice disturbed the feast last night? 
You did not hope to stir some enemies
Against me, and escape, and laugh to scorn
What every nerve of you now trembles at? 155
You judged that men were bolder than they are;
Few dare to stand between their grave and me.