BEATRICE.

The man they call my father: a dread name.

ORSINO.

It cannot be

BEATRICE.

What it can be, or not,

Forbear to think. It is, and it has been ;
Advise me how it shall not be again.

I thought to die; but a religious awe
Restrains me, and the dread lest death itself
Might be no refuge from the consciousness
Of what is yet unexpiated. Oh, speak!

ORSINO.

Accuse him of the deed, and let the law
Avenge thee.

BEATRICE.

Oh, ice-hearted counsellor!

If I could find a word that might make known
The crime of my destroyer; and that done,
My tongue should like a knife tear out the secret
Which cankers my heart's core; ay, lay all bare,
So that my unpolluted fame should be

With vilest gossips a stale mouthed story;
A mock, a by-word, an astonishment :—
If this were done, which never shall be done,
Think of the offender's gold, his dreaded hate,
And the strange horror of the accuser's tale,
Baffling belief, and overpowering speech;

Scarce whispered, unimaginable, wrapt

In hideous hints-Oh, most assured redress!

ORSINO.

You will endure it then?

BEATRICE.

Endure!-Orsino,

It seems your counsel is small profit.

[Turns from him, and speaks half to herself.

Ay,

All must be suddenly resolved and done.

What is this undistinguishable mist

Of thoughts, which rise, like shadow after shadow, Darkening each other?

ORSINO.

Should the offender live?

Triumph in his misdeed? and make, by use,
His crime, whate'er it is, dreadful no doubt,
Thine element; until thou mayest become
Utterly lost; subdued even to the hue
Of that which thou permittest?

BEATRICE (to herself.)

'Mighty death!

Thou double-visaged shadow! Only judge!

Rightfullest arbiter !

[She retires, absorbed in thought.

LUCRETIA.

If the lightning

Of God has e'er descended to avenge―

ORSINO.

Blaspheme not! His high Providence commits Its glory on this earth, and their own wrongs Into the hands of men; if they neglect

To punish crime—

LUCRETIA.

But if one, like this wretch,
Should mock, with gold, opinion, law, and power?
If there be no appeal to that which makes
The guiltiest tremble! If, because our wrongs,
For that they are unnatural, strange, and mon-
strous,

Exceed all measure of belief? Oh, God!
If, for the very reasons which should make
Redress most swift and sure, our injurer triumphs?
And we, the victims, bear worse punishment
Than that appointed for their torturer?

ORSINO.

Think not

But that there is redress where there is wrong, So we be bold enough to seize it.

LUCRETIA.

How?

If there were any way to make all sure,

I know not-but I think it might be good

To

ORSINO.

Why, his late outrage to Beatrice;
For it is such, as I but faintly guess,
As makes remorse dishonour, and leaves her
Only one duty, how she may avenge:
You, but one refuge from ills ill endured;
Me, but one counsel-

LUCRETIA.

For we cannot hope

That aid, or retribution, or resource

Will arise thence, where every other one
Might find them with less need.

(BEATRICE advances.)

Then

ORSINO.

BEATRICE.

Peace, Orsino!

And, honoured Lady, while I speak, I pray,
That you put off, as garments overworn,
Forbearance and respect, remorse and fear,
And all the fit restraints of daily life,

Which have been borne from childhood, but which

now

Would be a mockery to my holier plea.
As I have said, I have endured a wrong,
Which, though it be expressionless, is such

As asks atonement, both for what is past,
And lest I be reserved, day after day,
To load with crimes an overburthened soul,
And be what ye can dream not. I have prayed
To God, and I have talked with my own heart,
And have unravelled my entangled will,

And have at length determined what is right.
Art thou my friend, Orsino? False or true?
Pledge thy salvation ere I speak.

ORSINO.

I swear

To dedicate my cunning, and my strength,
My silence, and whatever else is mine,
To thy commands.

LUCRETIA.

You think we should devise

His death?

BEATRICE.

And execute what is devised,

And suddenly. We must be brief and bold.

ORSINO.

And yet most cautious.

LUCRETIA.

For the jealous laws

Would punish us with death and infamy

For that which it became themselves to do.