". . . And there Faced me Count Guido." Oh, if he had killed him then! if he had taken the throat in "one great good satisfying gripe," and abolished Guido with his lie! . . . But while he mused on the irony of such a miscreant calling _her_ his wife, "The minute, oh the misery, was gone;" --two police-officers stood beside, and Guido was ordering them to take her. Caponsacchi insisted that _he_ should lead them to the room where she was sleeping. He was a priest and privileged; when they came there, if the officer should detect "Guilt on her face when it meets mine, then judge Between us and the mad dog howling there!" They all went up together. There she lay, "O' the couch, still breathless, motionless, sleep's self, Wax-white, seraphic, saturate with the sun That filled the window with a light like blood." At Guido's loud order to the officers, she started up, and stood erect, face to face with the husband: "the opprobrious blur against all peace and joy and light and life"--for he was standing against the window a-flame with morning. But in her terror, that seemed to her the flame from hell, since _he_ was in it--and she cried to him to stand away, she chose hell rather than "embracing any more." Caponsacchi tried to go to her, but now the room was full of the rabble pouring in at the noise--he was caught--"they heaped themselves upon me." . . . Then, when she saw "my angel helplessly held back," then "Came all the strength back in a sudden swell," --and she sprang at her husband, seized the sword that hung beside him, "Drew, brandished it, the sunrise burned for joy O' the blade. 'Die,' cried she, 'devil, in God's name!' Ah, but they all closed round her, twelve to one . . . Dead-white and disarmed she lay." She said, dying, that this, her first and last resistance, had been invincible, for she had struck at the lie in Guido; and thus not "the vain sword nor weak speech" had saved her, but Caponsacchi's truth:-- "You see, I will not have the service fail! I say the angel saved me: I am safe! . . . What o' the way to the end?--the end crowns all" --for even though she now was dying, there had been the time at the convent with the quiet nuns, and then the safety with her parents, and then: