"Scarcely had the victim arrived at the foot of the scaffold, when the square, filled with that vast multitude before so uproarious, suddenly assumed the silence of a desert. Each one bent forward to hear her speak; with every eye riveted on her, and lips apart, it seemed as if their very existence depended on any words she might utter. Beatrice ascended the stairs with a slow but firm step. In a moment she placed herself on the block, which had caused so much fear to Lucrezia. She did not allow the executioner to remove the veil, but laid it herself upon the table. In this dreadful situation she remained a few minutes, a universal cry of horror staying the arm of the executioner. But soon the head of his victim was held up separated from the trunk, which was violently agitated for a few seconds. The miserable Bernardo Cenci, forced to witness the fate of his sister, again swooned away; nor could he be restored to his senses for more than half an hour. "Meanwhile the scaffold was made ready for the dreadful punishment destined for Giacomo. Having performed some religious ceremonies, he appeared dressed in a cloak and cap. Turning towards the people, he said in a clear voice, 'Although in the agonies of torture I accused my sister and brother of sharing in the crime for which I suffer, I accused them falsely. Now that I am about to render an account of my actions to God, I solemnly assert their entire innocence. Farewell, my friends. Oh, pray to God for me.' "Saying these words, he knelt down; the executioner bound his legs to the block and bandaged his eyes. To particularise the details of this execution would be too dreadful; suffice it to say, he was beaten, beheaded, and quartered in the sight of that vast multitude, and by the side of a brother, who was sprinkled with his blood. All was now over. "..... Near the statue of St. Paul, according to custom, were placed three biers, each with four lighted torches. In these were laid the bodies of the victims. A crown of flowers had been placed around the head of Beatrice, who seemed as though in sleep, so calm, so peaceful was that placid face, while a smile such as she wore in life still hovered on her lips. Many a tear was shed over that bier, many a flower was scattered around her, whose fate all mourned--whose innocence none questioned. "On that night the bodies were interred. The corpse of Beatrice, clad in the dress she wore on the scaffold, was borne, covered with garlands of flowers, to the church of San Pietro in Montorio; and buried at the foot of the high altar, before Raffaelle's celebrated picture of the Transfiguration."[97]