Breath'd in this sinful world, lay at thy feet,
Slain by thy pampered minion, and I knelt
Before thee for redress, whilst thou--didst never
Hear talk of retribution? This is justice,
Pure justice, not revenge!--Mark well, my lords,
Pure, equal justice. Martin Ursini
Had open trial, is guilty, is condemned,
And he shall die!

_Colonna_. Yet listen to us--

_Rie_. Lords,
If ye could range before me all the peers,
Prelates, and potentates of Christendom,--
The holy pontiff kneeling at my knee,
And emperors crouching at my feet, to sue
For this great robber, still I should be blind
As justice. But this very day a wife,
One infant hanging at her breast, and two,
Scarce bigger, first-born twins of misery,
Clinging to the poor rags that scarcely hid
Her squalid form, grasped at my bridle-rein
To beg her husband's life; condemned to die
For some vile, petty theft, some paltry scudi:
And, whilst the fiery war-horse chaf'd and sear'd,
Shaking his crest, and plunging to get free,
There, midst the dangerous coil, unmov'd, she stood,
Pleading in piercing words, the very cry
Of nature! And, when I at last said no--
For I said no to her--she flung herself