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of S. Peter in Montorio by the Brotherhood of the Order of Mercy, and followed by many Franciscan monks, with great pomp and innumerable torches; she was there buried before the high altar, after the customary ceremony had By reason of the distance of the church from the bridge, it was four hours after dark tefore the ceremony was finished. Afterwards the body of Lucretia, accompanied in the same manner, was carried to the church of S. Gregorio upon the Celian Hill; where, after the ceremony, it was honourably buried.
Beatrice was rather tall, of a fair complexion; and she had a dimple on each cheek, which, especially when she smiled, added a grace to her lovely countenance that transported every one who beheld her. Her hair appeared like threads of gold: and, because they were extremely long, she used to tie it up, and, when afterwards she loosened it, the splendid ringlets dazzled the eyes of the spectator. Her eyes were of a deep blue, pleasing, and full of fire. To all these beauties she added, both in words and actions, a spirit and a majestic vivacity that captivated every one. She was twenty years of age when she died.
Lucretia was as tall as Beatrice, but her full make made her appear less : she was also fair, and so fresh-complexioned that at fifty, which was her age when she died, she did not appear above thirty. Her hair was black, and her teeth regular and white to an extraordinary degree.
Giacomo was of a middle size ; fair but ruddy, and with black eyebrows; affable in his nature, of good address, and well skilled in every science and in all knightly exercises. He was not more than twenty-eight years of age when he died.
Lastly, Bernardo so closely resembled Beatrice in complexion, features, and everything else, that if they had changed clothes the one might easily have been taken for the other. His mind also seemed formed in the same model as that of his sister ; and at the time of her death he was six-and-twenty years old.
He remained in the prison of Tordinona until the month of September of the same year; after which time, at the intercession of the Most Venerable Grand Brotherhood of the Most Holy Crucifix of St. Marcellus, he obtained the favour of his liberty upon paying the sum of 25,000 crowns to the Hospital of the Most Holy Trinity of Pilgrims. Thus he, as the sole remnant of the Cenci family, became heir to all their possessions. He is now married, and has a son named Cristoforo.
The most faithful portrait of Beatrice exists in the Palace of the Villa Pamfili, without the gate of San Pancrazio : if any other is to be found in the Palazzo Cenci, it is not shown to any one ;--so as not to renew the memory of so horrible an event,
This was the end of this family. And until the time when this account is put together it has not been possible to find the Marquis Paolo Santa Croce ; but there is a rumour that he dwells in Brescia, a city of the Venetian states.
COUNT FRANCESCO Cenci.
ORSINO, a Prelate. GIACOMO,
SAVELLA, the Pope's Legate.
his Sons. BERNARDO,
Assassins. CARDINAL CAMILLO.
Nobles, Fudges, Guards, Servants.
BEATRICE, his daughter.
to Petrella, a Castle among the doulian Apennines.
TIME.-During the Pontificate of Clement VIII.
Cenci. The third of my possessions—let it go!
“Respited me from hell !"—So may the Devil
O Count Cenci !
Cenci. For which Aldobrandino owes you now
Camillo Thou execrable man, beware !
Of thee? Nay, this is idle :-We should know each other. As to my character for what men call crime, Seeing I please my senses as I list, And vindicate that right with force or guile, It is a public matter, and I care not If I discuss it with you. I may speak Alike to you and my own conscious heart; For you give out that you have hals reformed me, Therefore strong vanity will keep you silent, If fear should not ; both will, I do not doubt. All men delight in sensual luxury, All men enjoy revenge ; and most exult Over the tortures they can never feel, Flattering their secret peace with others' pain. But I delight in nothing else. I love The sight of agony, and the sense of joy, When this shall be another's, and that mine. And I have no remorse, and little fear, Which are, I think, the checks of other men. This mood has grown upon me, until now Any design my captious fancy makes The picture of its wish (and it forms none But such as men like you would start to know) Is as my natural food and rest debarred Until it be accomplished. Camillo,
Art thou not Most miserable?
Cenci. . Why miserable ? — No. I am what your theologians call “Hardened ;” which they must be in impudence, So to revile a man's peculiar taste. True, I was happier than I am, while yet Manhood remained to act the thing I thought,While lust was sweeter than revenge. And now Invention palls; ay, we must all grow old. But that there yet remains a deed to act Whose horror might make sharp an appetite Duller than mine, I'd do—I know not what. When I was young, I thought of nothing else But pleasure, and I fed on honey sweets. Men, by St. Thomas ! cannot live like bees,
And I grew tired : yet, till I killed a foe,
Camillo. Hell's most abandoned fiend
Bid him attend me in
Cenci. The third of my possessions !-I must use
(Looking around him suspiciously.