Page:Italian Literature.pdf/47

 Was guilt, then thou art guilty. From thy lips The sentence came. The crime is thine alone. I, thy devoted friend, did but obey Thy mandate.

Caius. Thou, my friend! I am not one To call a villain friend. Let thunders, fraught With fate and death, awake, to scatter those, Who, bringing liberty through paths of blood Bring chains!—degrading Freedom's lofty self, Below e'en Slavery's level!—Say thou not, Wretch! that the sentence and the guilt were mine! I wish'd him slain—'tis so—but by the axe Of high and public justice; that, whose stroke On thy vile head will fall. Thou hast disgrac'd Unutterably my name—I bid thee tremble!

Ful. Caius, let insult cease, I counsel thee, Let insult cease! Be the deed just or guilty, Enjoy its fruits in silence. Force me not To utter more.

Caius. And what hast thou to say?

Ful. That which I now suppress.

Cains. How! are there yet, Perchance, more crimes to be reveal'd?

Ful. I know not.

Caius. Thou know'st not!—Horror chills my curdling veins; I dare not ask thee further.

Ful. Thou dost well.

Caius. What saidst thou?

Ful. Nothing.

Caius. On my heart thy words Press heavily. Oh! what a fearful light Bursts o'er my soul!—Hast thou accomplices?

Ful. I have.

Caius. And who?

Ful. Insensate! ask me not.

Caius. I must be told.

Ful. Away!—thou wilt repent.

Caius. No more of this, for I will know.

Ful. Thou wilt? Ask then—thy sister.

Caius. (alone) Ask my sister!—what? Is she a murderess?—Hath my sister slain Her lord?—Oh! crime of darkest dye!—Oh! name Till now unstain'd, name of the Gracchi, thus Consign'd to infamy!—to infamy? The very hair doth rise upon my head, Thrill'd by the thought!—Where shall I find a place To hide my shame, to lave the branded stains From this dishonour'd brow?—What should I do?