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Sforza.
Hell has again ingulfed
The demon who betrayed me to this deed.
I have not murdered Julian. The fiend,
Though ravenous for blood, had felt a thrill
Of gentle pity in his fire-seared breast,
And staid mine arm.—My Veronica, too,
How cold and pale she lies beside him; soon,
Sweet innocent, thou wilt awake to pangs
Of ceaseless torture.——What wild shriek was there!
Am I the cause? Again it tears mine ears,
Rings through my brain.——It is his wretched wife.
Enter Prince Angelo and Attendants.
Angelo.
Here is the scene of blood; bind fast his arms,
Drag the assasin to a dungeon. We
Have here a mournful task.[Exeunt.
