126 The Early English Drama: [Aveust, 
Of all things blessed! Why, the saints in heaven 
Will knit their brows at that. 
Brach. Let not thy love 
Make thee an unbeliever. This my vow 
Shall never, on my soul, be satisfied 
With my repentance. Let thy brother rage 
Beyond a horrid tempest or a sea-fight : 
My vow is fixed. 
Isa. O, my winding-sheet ! 
Now shall I need thee shortly. Dear, my lord, 
Let me hear once more what I would not hear. 
—Never? 
Brach. Never. 
Isa. O, my unkind lord! may your sins find mercy 
As I, upon a woful widow’d bed, 
Shall pray for you, if not to turn your eyes 
Upon your wretched wife and hopeful son, 
Yet that in time you'll fix them upon heaven. 
Brach. No more! Go—complain to the great duke. 
Isa. No, my dear lord ; you shall have present witness 
How I'll work peace between you. I will make 
Myself the author of your cursed vow: 
I have some cause to do it—you have none. 
Conceal it, I beseech you, for the weal 
Of both your dukedoms, that you wrought the means 
Of such a separation. Let the fault 
Remain with my supposed jealousy ; 
And think with what a piteous and rent heart 
I shall perform this sad, ensuing part. 
Accordingly, she does perform this part; and the cruel duke permits 
her todo so; and then she departs from Rome again, with these con- 
cluding words, which are the last we hear from her :— 
« Unkindness, do thy office! Poor heart, break ! 
These are the killing griefs, which dare not speak !” 
Brachiano now, through the agency of Flamineo, and other of his crea- 
tures, brings about the immediate death of his duchess and of Vittoria’s 
husband ; but he cannot prevent the arraignment of his paramour, which 
takes place at the commencement of Act III. in presence of the Cardinal 
Monticelso, and the Duke of Florence, who act in the double and dis- 
cordant capacities of her accusers and her judges too. This scene is a 
long, but most admirable one ; and the part which Vittoria plays in it is 
perhaps the finest specimen extant of “a bold bad women,” outfacing 
her enemies, and triumphing in spirit and effect, even in the midst of her 
conscious guilt. To hear her talk, you would suppose that she had a 
conscience white as innocence :— 
“ Condemn you me for that the duke did love me? 
So may you blame some fair and crystal river 
For that some melancholic, distracted man 
Hath drowned himself therein. a ae ei 
* * * * x # 
Sum up my faults, I pray, and you shall find 
That beauty and gay clothes, a merry heart, 
And a good stomach to a feast, are all, 
All the poor crimes that you can charge me with. 
In faith, my lord, you might go pistol flies : 
The sport would be more noble.” 
