It is the iron gate, _40
Which ye left open, swinging to the wind,
That enters whistling as in scorn.
Which ye left open, swinging to the wind,
That enters whistling as in scorn.
Shelley
LUCRETIA:
I mixed an opiate with his drink: _30
He sleeps so soundly. . .
BEATRICE:
That his death will be
But as a change of sin-chastising dreams,
A dark continuance of the Hell within him,
Which God extinguish! But ye are resolved?
Ye know it is a high and holy deed? _35
OLIMPIO:
We are resolved.
MARZIO:
As to the how this act
Be warranted, it rests with you.
BEATRICE:
Well, follow!
OLIMPIO:
Hush! Hark! What noise is that?
MARZIO:
Ha! some one comes!
BEATRICE:
Ye conscience-stricken cravens, rock to rest
Your baby hearts.
It is the iron gate, _40
Which ye left open, swinging to the wind,
That enters whistling as in scorn. Come, follow!
And be your steps like mine, light, quick and bold.
[EXEUNT. ]
SCENE 4. 3:
AN APARTMENT IN THE CASTLE.
ENTER BEATRICE AND LUCRETIA.
LUCRETIA:
They are about it now.
BEATRICE:
Nay, it is done.
LUCRETIA:
I have not heard him groan.
BEATRICE:
He will not groan.
LUCRETIA:
What sound is that?
BEATRICE:
List! 'tis the tread of feet
About his bed.
LUCRETIA:
My God!
If he be now a cold, stiff corpse.
