[_Comes back to the table_.] What if I drank these juices, and so ceased? Were it not better than to wait till Death Come to my bed with all his serving men, Remorse, disease, old age, and misery? I wonder does one suffer much: I think That I am very young to die like this, But so it must be. Why, why should I die? He will escape to-night, and so his blood Will not be on my head. No, I must die; I have been guilty, therefore I must die; He loves me not, and therefore I must die: I would die happier if he would kiss me, But he will not do that. I did not know him. I thought he meant to sell me to the Judge; That is not strange; we women never know Our lovers till they leave us. [_Bell begins to toll_.] Thou vile bell, That like a bloodhound from thy brazen throat Call’st for this man’s life, cease! thou shalt not get it. He stirs—I must be quick: [_Takes up cup_.] O Love, Love, Love, I did not think that I would pledge thee thus! [_Drinks poison_, _and sets the cup down on the table behind her_: _the noise wakens_ GUIDO, _who starts up_, _and does not see what she has done_. _There is silence for a minute_, _each looking at the other_.] I do not come to ask your pardon now, Seeing I know I stand beyond all pardon; Enough of that: I have already, sir, Confessed my sin to the Lords Justices; They would not listen to me: and some said I did invent a tale to save your life; You have trafficked with me; others said That women played with pity as with men; Others that grief for my slain Lord and husband Had robbed me of my wits: they would not hear me, And, when I sware it on the holy book, They bade the doctor cure me. They are ten, Ten against one, and they possess your life. They call me Duchess here in Padua. I do not know, sir; if I be the Duchess, I wrote your pardon, and they would not take it; They call it treason, say I taught them that; Maybe I did. Within an hour, Guido, They will be here, and drag you from the cell, And bind your hands behind your back, and bid you Kneel at the block: I am before them there; Here is the signet ring of Padua, ’Twill bring you safely through the men on guard; There is my cloak and vizard; they have orders Not to be curious: when you pass the gate Turn to the left, and at the second bridge You will find horses waiting: by to-morrow You will be at Venice, safe. [_A pause_.] Do you not speak? Will you not even curse me ere you go?— You have the right. [_A pause_.] You do not understand There lies between you and the headsman’s axe Hardly so much sand in the hour-glass As a child’s palm could carry: here is the ring: I have washed my hand: there is no blood upon it: You need not fear. Will you not take the ring?