University of Virginia Library

SCENE III.

Rimini. The Garden of the Castle. Enter Paolo and Francesca.
Francesca.
Thou hast resolved?

Paolo.
I 've sworn it.

Fran.
Ah! you men
Can talk of love and duty in a breath;
Love while you like, forget when you are tired,
And salve your falsehood with some wholesome saw;
But we, poor women, when we give our hearts,
Give all, lose all, and never ask it back.

Paolo.
What couldst thou ask for that I have not given?
With love I gave thee manly probity,
Innocence, honor, self-respect, and peace.
Lanciotto will return, and how shall I—
O! shame, to think of it!—how shall I look
My brother in the face? take his frank hand?
Return his tender glances? I should blaze
With guilty blushes.

Fran.
Thou canst forsake me, then,
To spare thyself a little bashful pain?
Paolo, dost thou know what 't is for me,
A woman—nay, a dame of highest rank—
To lose my purity? to walk a path
Whose slightest slip may fill my ear with sounds
That hiss me out to infamy and death?
Have I no secret pangs, no self-respect,
No husband's look to bear? O! worse than these,
I must endure his loathsome touch; be kind
When he would dally with his wife, and smile
To see him play thy part. Pah! sickening thought!
From that thou art exempt. Thou shalt not go!
Thou dost not love me!

Paolo.
Love thee! Standing here,
With countless miseries upon my head,
I say, my love for thee grows day by day.
It palters with my conscience, blurs my thoughts
Of duty, and confuses my ideas
Of right and wrong. Ere long, it will persuade
My shaking manhood that all this is just.

Fran.
Let it! I'll blazon it to all the world,
Ere I will lose thee. Nay, if I had choice,
Between our love and my lost innocence,
I tell thee calmly, I would dare again
The deed which we have done. O! thou art cruel
To fly me, like a coward, for thy ease.
When thou art gone, thou 'lt flatter thy weak heart
With hopes and speculations; and thou 'lt swear
I suffer naught, because thou dost not see.
I will not live to bear it!

Paolo.
Die,—'t were best;
'T is the last desperate comfort of our sin.

Fran.
I'll kill myself!

Paolo.
And so would I, with joy;
But crime has made a craven of me. O!
For some good cause to perish in! Something
A man might die for, looking in God's face;
Not slinking out of life with guilt like mine
Piled on the shoulders of a suicide!

Fran.
Where wilt thou go?

Paolo.
I care not; anywhere
Out of this Rimini. The very things
That made the pleasures of my innocence
Have turned against me. There is not a tree,
Nor house, nor church, nor monument, whose face
Took hold upon my thoughts, that does not frown
Balefully on me. From their marble tombs
My ancestors scowl at me; and the night
Thickens to hear their hisses. I would pray,
But heaven jeers at it. Turn where'er I will,
A curse pursues me.

Fran.
Heavens! O, say not so!
I never cursed thee, love; I never moved
My little finger, ere I looked to thee
For my instruction.

Paolo.
But thy gentleness
Seems to reproach me; and, instead of joy,
It whispers horror!

Fran.
Cease! cease!

Paolo.
I must go.

Fran.
And I must follow. All that I call life
Is bound in thee. I could endure for thee
More agonies than thou canst catalogue—
For thy sake, love—bearing the ill for thee!
With thee, the devils could not so contrive
That I would blench or falter from my love!
Without thee, heaven were torture!

Paolo.
I must go.

[Going.]
Fran.
O! no—Paolo—dearest!—

[Clinging to him.]
Paolo.
Loose thy hold!
'T is for thy sake, and Lanciotto's; I
Am as a cipher in the reckoning.
I have resolved. Thou canst but stretch the time.
Keep me to-day, and I will fly to-morrow—
Steal from thee like a thief.

[Struggles with her.]
Fran.
Paolo—love—
Indeed, you hurt me!—Do not use me thus!
Kill me, but do not leave me. I will laugh—
A long, gay, ringing laugh—if thou wilt draw
Thy pitying sword, and stab me to the heart!
(Enter Lanciotto behind.)
Nay, then, one kiss!

Lanciotto.
(Advancing between them)
Take it: 't will be the last.

Paolo.
Lo! Heaven is just!

Fran.
The last! so be it.

[Kisses Paolo.]
Lan.
Ha!
Dare you these tricks before my very face?

Fran.
Why not? I 've kissed him in the sight of heaven;
Are you above it?

Paolo.
Peace, Francesca, peace!

Lan.
Paolo—why, thou sad and downcast man,
Look up! I have some words to speak with thee.
Thou art not guilty?

Paolo.
Yes, I am. But she
Has been betrayed; so she is innocent.
Her father tampered with her. I—

Fran.
'T is false!
The guilt is mine. Paolo was entrapped
By love and cunning. I am shrewder far
Than you suspect.

Paolo.
Lanciotto, shut thy ears;
She would deceive thee.

Lan.
Silence, both of you!
Is guilt so talkative in its defence?
Then, let me make you judge and advocate
In your own cause. You are not guilty?

Paolo.
Yes.

Lan.
Deny it—but a word—say no. Lie, lie!
And I'll believe.

Paolo.
I dare not.

Lan.
Lady, you?

Fran.
If I might speak for him—

Lan.
It cannot be:
Speak for yourself. Do you deny your guilt?

Fran.
No! I assert it; but—

Lan.
In heaven's name, hold!
Will neither of you answer no to me?
A nod, a hint, a sign, for your escape.
Bethink you, life is centred in this thing.
Speak! I will credit either. No reply?
What does your crime deserve?

Paolo.
Death.

Fran.
Death to both

Lan.
Well said! You speak the law of Italy;
And by the dagger you designed for me,
In Pepe's hand,—your bravo?

Paolo.
It is false!
If you received my dagger from his hand,
He stole it.

Lan.
There, sweet heaven, I knew! And now
You will deny the rest? You see, my friends,
How easy of belief I have become!—
How easy 't were to cheat me!

Paolo.
No; enough!
I will not load my groaning spirit more;
A lie would crush it.

Lan.
Brother, once you gave
Life to this wretched piece of workmanship,
When my own hand resolved its overthrow.
Revoke the gift.

[Offers to stab himself.]
Paolo.
(Preventing him.)
Hold, homicide!

Lan.
But think,
You and Francesca may live happily,
After my death, as only lovers can.

Paolo.
Live happily, after a deed like this!

Lan.
Now, look ye! there is not one hour of life
Among us three. Paolo, you are armed—
You have a sword, I but a dagger: see!
I mean to kill you.

Fran.
(Whispers Paolo.)
Give thy sword to me.

Paolo.
Away! thou 'rt frantic! I will never lift
This wicked hand against thee.

Lan.
Coward, slave!
Art thou so faint? Does Malatesta's blood
Run in thy puny veins? Take that!

[Strikes him.]
Paolo.
And more:
Thou canst not offer more than I will bear.

Lan.
Paolo, what a craven has thy guilt
Transformed thee to! Why, I have seen the time
When thou 'dst have struck at heaven for such a thing!
Art thou afraid?

Paolo.
I am.

Lan.
O! infamy!
Can man sink lower? I will wake thee, though:—
Thou shalt not die a coward. See! look here!

[Stabs Francesca.]
Fran.
O!—O!—

[Falls.]
Paolo.
Remorseless man, dare you do this,
And hope to live? Die, murderer!

[Draws, rushes at him, but pauses.]
Lan.
Strike, strike!
Ere thy heart fail.

Paolo.
I cannot.

[Throws away his sword.]
Lan.
Dost thou see
Yon bloated spider—hideous as myself—
Climbing aloft, to reach that wavering twig?
When he has touched it, one of us must die.
Here is the dagger.—Look at me, I say!
Keep your eyes from that woman! Look, think, choose!—
Turn here to me: thou shalt not look at her!

Paolo.
O, heaven!

Lan.
'T is done!

Paolo.
(Struggling with him.)
O! Lanciotto, hold!
Hold, for thy sake! Thou wilt repent this deed.

Lan.
I know it.

Fran.
(Rising.)
Help!—O! murder!—help, help, help!

[She totters towards them, and falls.]
Lan.
Our honor, boy!

[Stabs Paolo, he falls.]
Fran.
Paolo!

Paolo.
Hark! she calls.
I pray thee, brother, help me to her side.

[Lanciotto helps him to Francesca.]
Lan.
Why, there!

Paolo.
God bless thee!

Lan.
Have I not done well?
What were the honor of the Malatesti,
With such a living slander fixed to it?
Cripple! that 's something—cuckold! that is damned!
You blame me?

Paolo.
No.

Lan.
You, lady?

Fran.
No, my lord.

Lan.
May God forgive you! We are even now:
Your blood has cleared my honor, and our name
Shines to the world as ever.

Paolo.
O!—O!—

Fran.
Love,
Art suffering?

Paolo.
But for thee.

Fran.
Here, rest thy head
Upon my bosom. Fie upon my blood!
It stains thy ringlets. Ha! he dies! Kind saints,
I was first struck, why cannot I die first?
Paolo, wake!—God's mercy! wilt thou go
Alone—without me? Prithee, strike again!
Nay, I am better—love—now—O!

[Dies.]
Lan.
(Sinks upon his knees.)
Great heaven!

Malatesta.
(Without.)
This way, I heard the cries.

(Enter, with Guido, Attendants, etc.)
Guido.
O! horrible!

Mal.
O! bloody spectacle! Where is thy brother?

Lan.
So Cain was asked. Come here, old men! You shrink
From two dead bodies and a pool of blood—
You soldiers, too! Come here!

[Drags Malatesta and Guido forward.]
Mal.
O!—O!—

Lan.
You groan!
What must I do, then? Father, here it is,—
The blood of Guido mingled with our own,
As my old nurse predicted. And the spot
Of her infernal baptism burns my brain
Till reason shudders! Down, upon your knees!
Ay, shake them harder, and perchance they'll wake.
Keep still! Kneel, kneel! You fear them? I shall prowl
About these bodies till the day of doom.

Mal.
What hast thou done?

Gui.
Francesca!—O! my child!

Lan.
Can howling make this sight more terrible?
Peace! You disturb the angels up in heaven,
While they are hiding from this ugly earth.
Be satisfied with what you see. You two
Began this tragedy, I finished it.
Here, by these bodies, let us reckon up
Our crimes together. Why, how still they lie!
A moment since, they walked, and talked, and kissed!
Defied me to my face, dishonored me!
They had the power to do it then; but now,
Poor souls, who'll shield them in eternity?
Father, the honor of our house is safe:
I have the secret. I will to the wars,
And do more murders, to eclipse this one.
Back to the battles; there I breathe in peace;
And I will take a soldier's honor back.—
Honor! what 's that to me now? Ha! ha! ha!
[Laughing.]
A great thing, father! I am very ill.
I killed thy son for honor: thou mayst chide.
O God! I cannot cheat myself with words!
I loved him more than honor—more than life—
This man, Paolo—this stark, bleeding corpse!
Here let me rest, till God awake us all!

[Falls on Paolo's body.]