CENCI: Then it was I whose inarticulate words Fell from my lips, and who with tottering steps Fled from your presence, as you now from mine. Stay, I command you--from this day and hour _115 Never again, I think, with fearless eye, And brow superior, and unaltered cheek, And that lip made for tenderness or scorn, Shalt thou strike dumb the meanest of mankind; Me least of all. Now get thee to thy chamber! _120 Thou too, loathed image of thy cursed mother, [TO BERNARDO.] Thy milky, meek face makes me sick with hate! [EXEUNT BEATRICE AND BERNARDO.] [ASIDE.] So much has passed between us as must make Me bold, her fearful.--'Tis an awful thing To touch such mischief as I now conceive: _125 So men sit shivering on the dewy bank, And try the chill stream with their feet; once in... How the delighted spirit pants for joy! LUCRETIA [ADVANCING TIMIDLY TOWARDS HIM]: O husband! Pray forgive poor Beatrice. She meant not any ill. CENCI: Nor you perhaps? _130 Nor that young imp, whom you have taught by rote Parricide with his alphabet? Nor Giacomo? Nor those two most unnatural sons, who stirred Enmity up against me with the Pope? Whom in one night merciful God cut off: _135 Innocent lambs! They thought not any ill. You were not here conspiring? You said nothing Of how I might be dungeoned as a madman; Or be condemned to death for some offence, And you would be the witnesses?--This failing, _140 How just it were to hire assassins, or Put sudden poison in my evening drink? Or smother me when overcome by wine? Seeing we had no other judge but God, And He had sentenced me, and there were none _145 But you to be the executioners Of His decree enregistered in heaven? Oh, no! You said not this? LUCRETIA: So help me God, I never thought the things you charge me with! CENCI: If you dare to speak that wicked lie again _150 I'll kill you. What! It was not by your counsel That Beatrice disturbed the feast last night? You did not hope to stir some enemies Against me, and escape, and laugh to scorn What every nerve of you now trembles at? _155 You judged that men were bolder than they are; Few dare to stand between their grave and me. LUCRETIA: Look not so dreadfully! By my salvation I knew not aught that Beatrice designed; Nor do I think she designed any thing _160 Until she heard you talk of her dead brothers.