BERTUCCIO (hoarsely).
My child in Malatesta's house last night?
DELL' AQUILA.
Secure;—even in the Countess's own chamber!
BERTUCCIO (with a wild cry).
My child! my child! wronged! murdered!
DELL' AQUILA.
Ha! by whom?
BERTUCCIO (wildly).
By me! by me! Her father—her own father!
That would have grasped Heaven's vengeance, and have drawn
The bolt on my own head, and hers—and hers!
DELL' AQUILA.
What do you mean?
BERTUCCIO.
I counselled the undoing
Of Malatesta's wife. I stood and watched,
And laughed for joy, and held the ladder for them;
And all the while 't was my own innocent child!
Look not so scared—'t is true; I am not mad!
She's here—now—in their clutches! [Laughter within.
Hark! they laugh.
'T is the hyænas o'er their prey—my child!—
And I stand here and cannot lift a hand!
DELL' AQUILA.
Here's mine, and my sword, too!
BERTUCCIO.
Oh, what were that
Against their felon blades?
