No More Learning

Have lived but on this earth a few sad years,
And so my lot was ordered, that a father _120
First turned the moments of awakening life
To drops, each poisoning youth's sweet hope; and then
Stabbed with one blow my everlasting soul;
And my untainted fame; and even that peace
Which sleeps within the core of the heart's heart; _125
But the wound was not mortal; so my hate
Became the only worship I could lift
To our great father, who in pity and love,
Armed thee, as thou dost say, to cut him off;
And thus his wrong becomes my accusation; _130
And art thou the accuser? If thou hopest
Mercy in heaven, show justice upon earth:
Worse than a bloody hand is a hard heart.
If thou hast done murders, made thy life's path
Over the trampled laws of God and man, _135
Rush not before thy Judge, and say: 'My maker,
I have done this and more; for there was one
Who was most pure and innocent on earth;
And because she endured what never any
Guilty or innocent endured before: _140
Because her wrongs could not be told, not thought;
Because thy hand at length did rescue her;
I with my words killed her and all her kin. '
Think, I adjure you, what it is to slay
The reverence living in the minds of men _145
Towards our ancient house, and stainless fame!
Think what it is to strangle infant pity,
Cradled in the belief of guileless looks,
Till it become a crime to suffer. Think
What 'tis to blot with infamy and blood _150
All that which shows like innocence, and is,
Hear me, great God! I swear, most innocent,
So that the world lose all discrimination
Between the sly, fierce, wild regard of guilt,
And that which now compels thee to reply _155
To what I ask: Am I, or am I not
A parricide?

MARZIO:
Thou art not!

JUDGE:
What is this?

MARZIO:
I here declare those whom I did accuse
Are innocent. 'Tis I alone am guilty.

JUDGE:
Drag him away to torments; let them be _160
Subtle and long drawn out, to tear the folds
Of the heart's inmost cell. Unbind him not
Till he confess.

MARZIO:
Torture me as ye will:
A keener pang has wrung a higher truth
From my last breath. She is most innocent!
_165
Bloodhounds, not men, glut yourselves well with me;
I will not give you that fine piece of nature
To rend and ruin.

NOTE:
_164 pang edition 1821; pain editions 1819, 1839.

[EXIT MARZIO, GUARDED. ]

CAMILLO:
What say ye now, my Lords?

JUDGE:
Let tortures strain the truth till it be white
As snow thrice sifted by the frozen wind. _170

CAMILLO:
Yet stained with blood.

JUDGE [TO BEATRICE]:
Know you this paper, Lady?

BEATRICE:
Entrap me not with questions. Who stands here
As my accuser? Ha! wilt thou be he,
Who art my judge? Accuser, witness, judge,
What, all in one? Here is Orsino's name; _175
Where is Orsino? Let his eye meet mine.
What means this scrawl? Alas!