this obstinate lover that a reason existed why Beatrice could be neither
his wife nor any other man's. Guerra demanded what this reason was.
Francesco replied:

"Because she is my mistress."

Monsignor Guerra turned pale at this answer, although at first he did
not believe a word of it; but when he saw the smile with which Francesco
Cenci accompanied his words, he was compelled to believe that, terrible
though it was, the truth had been spoken.

For three days he sought an interview with Beatrice in vain; at length
he succeeded in finding her. His last hope was her denial of this
horrible story: Beatrice confessed all. Henceforth there was no human
hope for the two lovers; an impassable gulf separated them. They parted
bathed in tears, promising to love one another always.

Up to that time the two women had not formed any criminal resolution,
and possibly the tragical incident might never have happened, had not
Francesco one night returned into his daughter's room and violently
forced her into the commission of fresh crime.

Henceforth the doom of Francesco was irrevocably pronounced.

As we have said, the mind of Beatrice was susceptible to the best and
the worst influences: it could attain excellence, and descend to guilt.
She went and told her mother of the fresh outrage she had undergone;
this roused in the heart of the other woman the sting of her own wrongs;
and, stimulating each other's desire for revenge, they decided upon the
murder of Francesco.