Contents - BOOK CONTENTS -BIBLIOGRAPHIC RECORD

Robert Browning (1812–1889). A Blot in the ’Scutcheon.
The Harvard Classics. 1909–14.

Act III Scene VI

Just Heaven! Can what I hear be credited?

Yes, brother, I am wicked, I am guilty,

A miserable sinner, steeped in evil,

The greatest criminal that ever lived.

Each moment of my life is stained with soilures;

And all is but a mass of crime and filth;

Heaven, for my punishment, I see it plainly,

Would mortify me now. Whatever wrong

They find to charge me with, I’ll not deny it

But guard against the pride of self-defence.

Believe their stories, arm your wrath against me,

And drive me like a villain from your house;

I cannot have so great a share of shame

But what I have deserved a greater still.

You miscreant, can you dare, with such a falsehood,

To try to stain the whiteness of his virtue?

What! The feigned meekness of this hypocrite

Makes you discredit…

Silence, cursèd plague!

Ah! Let him speak; you chide him wrongfully;

You’d do far better to believe his tales.

Why favour me so much in such a matter?

How can you know of what I’m capable?

And should you trust my outward semblance, brother,

Or judge therefrom that I’m the better man?

No, no; you let appearances deceive you;

I’m anything but what I’m thought to be,

Alas! and though all men believe me godly,

The simple truth is, I’m a worthless creature.

Yes, my dear son, say on, and call me traitor,

Abandoned scoundrel, thief, and murderer;

Heap on me names yet more detestable,

And I shall not gainsay you; I’ve deserved them;

I’ll bear this ignominy on my knees,

To expiate in shame the crimes I’ve done.

Ah, brother, ’tis too much!

You’ll not relent,

You blackguard?

What! His talk can so deceive you…

Silence, you scoundrel!

Brother, rise, I beg you.

Infamous villain!

Can he…

Silence!

What…

Another word, I’ll break your every bone.

Brother, in God’s name, don’t be angry with him!

I’d rather bear myself the bitterest torture

Than have him get a scratch on my account.

Ungrateful monster!

Stop. Upon my knees

I beg you pardon him…

Alas! How can you?

Villain! Behold his goodness!

So…

Be still.

What! I…

Be still, I say. I know your motives

For this attack. You hate him, all of you;

Wife, children, servants, all let loose upon him,

You have recourse to every shameful trick

To drive this godly man out of my house;

The more you strive to rid yourselves of him,

The more I’ll strive to make him stay with me;

I’ll have him straightway married to may daughter,

Just to confound the pride of all of you.

What! Will you force her to accept his hand?

Yes, and this very evening, to enrage you,

Young rascal! Ah! I’ll brave you all, and show you

That I’m the master, and must be obeyed.

Now, down upon your knees this instant, rogue,

And take back what you said, and ask his pardon.

Who? I? Ask pardon of that cheating scoundrel…?

Do you resist, you beggar, and insult him?

A cudgel, here! a cudgel!

Don’t restrain me.

Off with you! Leave my house this instant, sirrah,

And never dare set foot in it again.

Yes, I will leave your house, but…

Leave it quickly.

You reprobate, I disinherit you,

And give you, too, my curse into the bargain.