of S. Peter in Montorio by the Brotherhood of the Order of Mercy, and followed by many Franciscan monks, with great pomp and innumerable torches; she was there buried before the high altar, after the customary ceremony had been performed. By reason of the distance of the church from the bridge, it was four hours after dark before the ceremony was finished. Afterwards the body of Lucretia, accompanied in the same manner, was carried to the church of S. Gregorio upon the Celian Hill; where, after the ceremony, it was honourably buried. Beatrice was rather tall, of a fair complexion; and she had a dimple on each cheek, which, especially when she smiled, added a grace to her lovely countenance that transported every one who beheld her. Her hair appeared like threads of gold; and, because they were extremely long, she used to tie it up, and, when afterwards she loosened it, the splendid ringlets dazzled the eyes of the spectator. Her eyes were of a deep blue, pleasing, and full of fire. To all these beauties she added, both in words and actions, a spirit and a majestic vivacity that captivated every one. She was twenty years of age when she died. Lucretia was as tall as Beatrice, but her full make made her appear less: she was also fair, and so fresh-complexioned that at fifty, which was her age when she died, she did not appear above thirty. Her hair was black, and her teeth regular and white to an extraordinary degree. Giacomo was of a middle size; fair but ruddy, and with black eyebrows: affable in his nature, of good address, and well skilled in every science and in all knightly exercises. He was not more than twenty-eight years of age when he died. Lastly, Bernardo so closely resembled Beatrice in complexion, features, and everything else, that if they had changed clothes the one might easily have been taken for the other. His mind also seemed formed in the same model as that of his sister; and at the time of her death he was six-and-twenty years old. He remained in the prison of Tordinona until the month of September of the same year; after which time, at the intercession of the Most Venerable Grand Brotherhood of the Most Holy Crucifix of St. Marcellus, he obtained the favour of his liberty upon paying the sum of 25,000 crowns to the Hospital of the Most Holy Trinity of Pilgrims. Thus he, as the sole remnant of the Cenci family, became heir to all their possessions. He is now married, and has a son named Cristoforo. The most faithful portrait of Beatrice exists in the Palace of the Villa Pamfili, without the gate of San Pancrazio: if any other is to be found in the Palazzo Cenci, it is not shown to any one ;-so as not to renew the memory of so horrible an event, This was the end of this family. And until the time when this account is put together it has not been possible to find the Marquis Paolo Santa Croce; but there is a rumour that he dwells in Brescia, a city of the Venetian states. DRAMATIS PERSONE. COUNT FRANCESCO CENCI. BERNARDO, } his Sons. CARDINAL CAMILLO. ORSINO, a Prelate. SAVELLA, the Pope's Legate. MARZIO, ANDREA, Servant to CENCI. Assassins. LUCRETIA, Wife of CENCI, and stepmother of his children. BEATRICE, his daughter. The SCENE lies principally in Rome, but changes during the Fourth Act to Petrella, a Castle among the Apulian Apennines. TIME.-During the Pontificate of Clement VIII. ACT I. SCENE I.—An Apartment in the Cenci Palace. Camillo. That matter of the murder is hushed up Your fief that lies beyond the Pincian gate. It needed all my interest in the conclave That crimes like yours, if once or twice compounded, But that the glory and the interest Of the high throne he fills little consist So manifold and hideous as the deeds Which you scarce hide from men's revolted eyes. The next time I compounded with his uncle : "Respited me from hell !"-So may the Devil Respite their souls from heaven! No doubt Pope Clement. And his most charitable nephews pray That the Apostle Peter and the saints Will grant for their sakes that I long enjoy Strength, wealth, and pride, and lust, and length of days Wherein to act the deeds which are the stewards Of their revenue.-But much yet remains To which they show no title. Camillo. O Count Cenci ! So much that you might honourably live, And reconcile yourself with your own heart, The shame and misery you have written there. But her own strange and uncomplaining wrongs? Watching its bold and bad career, as men And in that hope have saved your life three times. One thing, I pray you, recollect henceforth, Camillo. Thou execrable man, beware!— Cenci. Of thee? Nay, this is idle :-We should know each other. As to my character for what men call crime, And vindicate that right with force or guile, It is a public matter, and I care not If I discuss it with you. I may speak Alike to you and my own conscious heart; For you give out that you have half reformed me, If fear should not; both will, I do not doubt. All men enjoy revenge; and most exult Which are, I think, the checks of other men. The picture of its wish (and it forms none But such as men like you would start to know) Until it be accomplished. Camillo. Most miserable? Cenci. No. Art thou not Why miserable?— I am what your theologians call "Hardened;" which they must be in impudence, So to revile a man's peculiar taste. True, I was happier than I am, while yet Manhood remained to act the thing I thought, And now While lust was sweeter than revenge. But that there yet remains a deed to act And I grew tired: yet, till I killed a foe, And heard his groans, and heard his children's groans, For hourly pain. Camillo. Hell's most abandoned fiend Did never, in the drunkenness of guilt, Speak to his heart as now you speak to me ! I thank my God that I believe you not. [Exit CAMILLO. Almighty God that thy false impious words Cenci. The third of my possessions !—I must use I pray thee, God, send some quick death upon them! If dead and damned. Then, as to Beatrice [Looking around him suspiciously. I think they cannot hear me at that door; |