To see, in this ill world where none are true,
My kindred false to their deserted selves. 
And with considering all the wretched life 70
Which I have lived, and its now wretched end,
And the small justice shown by Heaven and Earth
To me or mine; and what a tyrant thou art,
And what slaves these; and what a world we make,
The oppressor and the oppressed...such pangs compel 75
My answer.  What is it thou wouldst with me?

JUDGE: 
Art thou not guilty of thy father’s death?

BEATRICE: 
Or wilt thou rather tax high-judging God
That He permitted such an act as that
Which I have suffered, and which He beheld; 80
Made it unutterable, and took from it
All refuge, all revenge, all consequence,
But that which thou hast called my father’s death? 
Which is or is not what men call a crime,
Which either I have done, or have not done; 85
Say what ye will.  I shall deny no more. 
If ye desire it thus, thus let it be,
And so an end of all.  Now do your will;
No other pains shall force another word.

JUDGE: 
She is convicted, but has not confessed. 90
Be it enough.  Until their final sentence
Let none have converse with them.  You, young Lord,
Linger not here!

BEATRICE: 
Oh, tear him not away!

JUDGE: 
Guards! do your duty.

BERNARDO [EMBRACING BEATRICE]: 
Oh! would ye divide
Body from soul?

OFFICER: 
That is the headsman’s business. 95

[EXEUNT ALL BUT LUCRETIA, BEATRICE, AND GIACOMO.]

GIACOMO: 
Have I confessed?  Is it all over now? 
No hope!  No refuge!  O weak, wicked tongue
Which hast destroyed me, would that thou hadst been
Cut out and thrown to dogs first!  To have killed
My father first, and then betrayed my sister; 100
Ay, thee! the one thing innocent and pure
In this black, guilty world, to that which I
So well deserve!  My wife! my little ones! 
Destitute, helpless, and I...Father!  God! 
Canst Thou forgive even the unforgiving, 105
When their full hearts break thus, thus!...

[COVERS HIS FACE AND WEEPS.]

LUCRETIA: 
O my child! 
To what a dreadful end are we all come! 
Why did I yield?  Why did I not sustain
Those torments?  Oh, that I were all dissolved
Into these fast and unavailing tears, 110
Which flow and feel not!