Part 21 (1/2)
[throws herself on her knees]
Then slay me now! I have spilt blood to-night, You shall spill more, so we go hand in hand To heaven or to h.e.l.l. Draw your sword, Guido.
Quick, let your soul go chambering in my heart, It will but find its master's image there.
Nay, if you will not slay me with your sword, Bid me to fall upon this reeking knife, And I will do it.
GUIDO
[wresting knife from her]
Give it to me, I say.
O G.o.d, your very hands are wet with blood!
This place is h.e.l.l, I cannot tarry here.
I pray you let me see your face no more.
d.u.c.h.eSS
Better for me I had not seen your face.
[GUIDO recoils: she seizes his hands as she kneels.]
Nay, Guido, listen for a while: Until you came to Padua I lived Wretched indeed, but with no murderous thought, Very submissive to a cruel Lord, Very obedient to unjust commands,
As pure I think as any gentle girl Who now would turn in horror from my hands - [Stands up.]
You came: ah! Guido, the first kindly words I ever heard since I had come from France Were from your lips: well, well, that is no matter.
You came, and in the pa.s.sion of your eyes I read love's meaning; everything you said Touched my dumb soul to music, so I loved you.
And yet I did not tell you of my love.
'Twas you who sought me out, knelt at my feet As I kneel now at yours, and with sweet vows, [Kneels.]
Whose music seems to linger in my ears, Swore that you loved me, and I trusted you.
I think there are many women in the world Who would have tempted you to kill the man.
I did not.
Yet I know that had I done so, I had not been thus humbled in the dust, [Stands up.]
But you had loved me very faithfully.
[After a pause approaches him timidly.]
I do not think you understand me, Guido: It was for your sake that I wrought this deed Whose horror now chills my young blood to ice, For your sake only. [Stretching out her arm.]
Will you not speak to me?
Love me a little: in my girlish life I have been starved for love, and kindliness Has pa.s.sed me by.
GUIDO
I dare not look at you: You come to me with too p.r.o.nounced a favour; Get to your tirewomen.
d.u.c.h.eSS
Ay, there it is!
There speaks the man! yet had you come to me With any heavy sin upon your soul, Some murder done for hire, not for love, Why, I had sat and watched at your bedside All through the night-time, lest Remorse might come And pour his poisons in your ear, and so Keep you from sleeping! Sure it is the guilty, Who, being very wretched, need love most.
GUIDO
There is no love where there is any guilt.
d.u.c.h.eSS