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To give me leave to utter openly
The dreadful secret of this mystery,

And to point out the very guilty one
Who with this dagger last night slew the Duke.

LORD JUSTICE
Thou hast leave to speak.

DUCHESS
[rising]

I say he shall not speak:
What need have we of further evidence?

Was he not taken in the house at night
In Guilt's own bloody livery?

LORD JUSTICE
[showing her the statute]

Your Grace
Can read the law.

DUCHESS
[waiving book aside]

Bethink you, my Lord Justice,
Is it not very like that such a one

May, in the presence of the people here,
Utter some slanderous word against my Lord,

Against the city, or the city's honour,
Perchance against myself.

LORD JUSTICE
My liege, the law.

DUCHESS
He shall not speak, but, with gags in his mouth,

Shall climb the ladder to the bloody block.
LORD JUSTICE

The law, my liege.
DUCHESS

We are not bound by law,
But with it we bind others.

MORANZONE
My Lord Justice,

Thou wilt not suffer this injustice here.
LORD JUSTICE

The Court needs not thy voice, Lord Moranzone.
Madam, it were a precedent most evil

To wrest the law from its appointed course,
For, though the cause be just, yet anarchy

Might on this licence touch these golden scales
And unjust causes unjust victories gain.

COUNT BARDI
I do not think your Grace can stay the law.

DUCHESS
Ay, it is well to preach and prate of law:

Methinks, my haughty lords of Padua,
If ye are hurt in pocket or estate,

So much as makes your monstrous revenues
Less by the value of one ferry toll,

Ye do not wait the tedious law's delay
With such sweet patience as ye counsel me.

COUNT BARDI
Madam, I think you wrong our nobles here.

DUCHESS
I think I wrong them not. Which of you all

Finding a thief within his house at night,
With some poor chattel thrust into his rags,

Will stop and parley with him? do ye not
Give him unto the officer and his hook

To be dragged gaolwards straightway?
And so now,

Had ye been men, finding this fellow here,
With my Lord's life still hot upon his hands,

Ye would have haled him out into the court,
And struck his head off with an axe.

GUIDO
O God!

DUCHESS
Speak, my Lord Justice.

LORD JUSTICE
Your Grace, it cannot be:

The laws of Padua are most certain here:
And by those laws the common murderer even

May with his own lips plead, and make defence.
DUCHESS

This is no common murderer, Lord Justice,
But a great outlaw, and a most vile traitor,

Taken in open arms against the state.
For he who slays the man who rules a state

Slays the state also, widows every wife,
And makes each child an orphan, and no less

Is to be held a public enemy,
Than if he came with mighty ordonnance,

And all the spears of Venice at his back,
To beat and batter at our city gates -

Nay, is more dangerous to our commonwealth,
For walls and gates, bastions and forts, and things

Whose common elements are wood and stone
May be raised up, but who can raise again

The ruined body of my murdered lord,
And bid it live and laugh?

MAFFIO
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


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