  Transcriber's Note: Obvious typographical errors have been corrected. Inconsistent spelling and hyphenation in the original document have been preserved. Frequent reference is made to material not included in this text, often, but not always indicated by [Citation] or a page reference. Hyper-links are provided, therefore, only when references are clearly internal. EVERYMAN'S LIBRARY POETRY AND THE OLD YELLOW BOOK THIS IS NO. 503 OF EVERYMAN'S LIBRARY. THE PUBLISHERS WILL BE PLEASED TO SEND FREELY TO ALL APPLICANTS A LIST OF THE PUBLISHED AND PROJECTED VOLUMES, ARRANGED UNDER THE FOLLOWING SECTIONS: TRAVEL * SCIENCE * FICTION Printer's Logo IN FOUR STYLES OF BINDING: CLOTH, FLAT BACK, COLOURED TOP; LEATHER, ROUND CORNERS, GILT TOP; LIBRARY BINDING IN CLOTH, & QUARTER PIGSKIN London: J. M. DENT & SONS, Ltd. frontpieceA POETS frontpieceB THE OLD YELLOW BOOK:
PUBLISHERS' NOTE Some years before his death Browning promised to leave the Old Yellow Book, together with other books and manuscripts, to Balliol College, Oxford, and his son carried out the promise soon after the poet's decease. The Carnegie Institution of Washington, D. C., has reproduced the entire book in photo-facsimile, with translation and editing by Charles W. Hodell. The Publishers gratefully acknowledge the kindness and generosity of the Institution in allowing the translation of the Yellow Book to be reproduced in the present volume. They have also to acknowledge their indebtedness to Professor Hodell for the courtesy he has shown, and the great help he has given in editing these volumes. Hitherto the work has been practically inaccessible to British readers, and in its new dress it is hoped it will be found invaluable in interpreting the greatest work of Robert Browning. INTRODUCTION The Old Yellow Book is a soiled and bloody page from the criminal annals of Rome two centuries ago, saved apparently by mere chance for the one great artist of modern literature who could best use it, and who has raised this record of a forgotten crime to a permanent place in that ideal world of man's creation where Caponsacchi and Pompilia have joined the company of Paolo and Francesca, of the Red Cross Knight, of Imogen, of Marguerite and Faust, and of Don Quixote. One June day of 1860, Robert Browning passed from the Casa Guidi home to enjoy the busy life of Florence. There, "pushed by the hand ever above my shoulder," he entered the Piazza of San Lorenzo: crammed with booths, Buzzing and blaze, noontide and market-time. He had brought home from such wanderings many a rare old tapestry, or picture, or carving from the long artistic past of the city. This day his eye caught the soiled, vellum-covered volume, crowded between its insignificant neighbours. "One glance at the lettered back," declares the poet, "and Stall! a lira made it mine." All the way home and all day long, he pored over these pages, until by nightfall he had so mastered the facts of the case that the whole tragedy lay plain before his mind's eye. The book led him, and leads us, back to the morning of January 3, 1698, when all Rome was astir with the sensation of a brutal assassination. The aged Comparini, cut to pieces in their own home in the very heart of Rome on the evening before by a band of assassins, were now exposed to the view of an excited mob of the curious and idle. Pompilia, desperately wounded, lay a-dying. A police captain and posse were in pursuit of the criminals, one of whom was a nobleman who had held office in the household of one of the great cardinals. Toward night the criminals were brought back to the city, and were followed through the streets to the prison doors by a great throng. Just seven weeks later and again Rome was throbbing with excitement. Unwonted crowds were pressing into the Piazza del Popolo, where gallows and scaffold had been prepared. At last, up the Corso filed the Brotherhood of Death with their black gowns and great cross, and behind them, in separate carts, the five criminals. In the midst of a sea of upturned faces Guido and his fellows met their end, and the curtain fell. The Old Yellow Book is the record of the court procedure of those seven intervening weeks, and shows us the whole legal battle fought to save Guido, while Rome looked on with the fascinated interest which has always attended the great murder trials. It includes the lawyers' arguments for and against the accused, together with a part of the evidence brought into court, and some additional miscellaneous data on the case. All this had evidently been assembled by the Florentine lawyer, Cencini, to whom certain letters included are addressed. He seems to have been interested in the case as a precedent on an important and much disputed point of law, "whether and when a husband may kill an adulterous wife." Cencini may also have had some professional relation with the Franceschini family at Arezzo. At any rate, he set the material in order, provided title-page and index, and a transcript of the record in a criminal case against Pompilia in the Tuscan courts (pp. 5-7), and bound it securely in the vellum cover which conveyed it to the poet's hands more than a century and a half later. Whatever meaning this volume may have as a legal precedent, it had for Browning, and has for the lay reader, a deep human interest as the incomplete record of a sordid series of intrigues for certain properties, ending at last in a fearful crime. Guido Franceschini, scion of a noble but impoverished Tuscan family, had sought his fortunes in Rome, and had attained a secretaryship in the household of Cardinal Lauria. His brother, the Abate Paolo, a shrewd and effective man, rose much higher, at last attaining important office among the Knights of St. John. Guido, less astute and less ingratiating, reached middle life with but scant success, and at last was left unprovided. With the assistance of Abate Paolo, he planned to recoup his fortunes by a bourgeois marriage. Though past forty years of age and of unattractive appearance, he won, by his noble name and subtle intrigue and falsification, the thirteen-year-old daughter of the Comparini, of the well-to-do middle class of Rome. After the marriage in December 1693, Pompilia and her parents accompanied Guido back to Arezzo, where, in the ruinous Franceschini palazzo, the Comparini had ample opportunity to repent their folly. Bitter contentions soon arose, and at last the Comparini fled from the brutalities of their son-in-law, and returned to Rome. There they published broadcast the sordid poverty and the ignoble brutality of their persecutors, probably printing and circulating the affidavit of the servant (pp. 49-53). Guido seems to have retorted by circulating the forged letter from Pompilia (pp. 56, 57). But they struck a more deadly blow at the pride of the Franceschini when they revealed that Pompilia was not their own child, but was of ignominious parentage. And in the spring of 1694 they brought suit before Judge Tomati for the recovery of the dowry monies paid to Franceschini—a bitter humiliation to the greedy poverty of the Franceschini. It must have been a scandalous suit, bringing dishonour to both parties as their domestic difficulties were exposed to the throngs of the curious. In this trial were adduced the letters of the governor (pp. 89, 90) and of the Bishop of Arezzo (p. 99). The Comparini lost their suit, but appealed to the Rota, and their case was pending for several years, during which time they may have baited the Franceschini with spiteful scandals. In the meantime, the child-wife, Pompilia, was left in desperate plight—despised and hated by her husband's family. Her situation grew intolerable. Guido had evidently determined to rid himself of her without relaxing his grip on her property. His brutalities were systematic and cunning. At last she was driven to flee for her life, and on April 29, 1697, made her escape under the protection of Caponsacchi, a gallant young priest. It was a desperate step, gravely reprehensible in the eyes of the world. The fugitives pressed toward Rome, but Guido overtook them at Castelnuovo, fifteen miles short of their destination, and had them arrested. At Rome, criminal charges of flight and adultery were brought against them. This Process of Flight, as it is repeatedly called in the Yellow Book, continued all through the summer. It was for their defence in this case that Pompilia and Caponsacchi made their affidavits (pp. 90 and 95), giving their motives for the flight. At the same time Guido urged the evidence of the love-letters (pp. 99-106), which he claimed to have found at the time of the arrest of the fugitives. In September, judgment was rendered against Caponsacchi—relegation for three years to Civita Vecchia—a punishment commensurate with indiscretion rather than with crime. Pompilia was unsentenced, but was retained for a month in safekeeping in the nunnery delle Scalette, and was then permitted to return to the home of her foster-parents, the Comparini, though still technically a prisoner in this home (p. 159). Here on December 18 a boy was born. On Christmas Eve, Guido reached Rome with four young rustics, whom he had hired to assist him in the assassination. For a week he lurked in the villa of his brother, Abate Paolo, who had left Rome. Then, on the evening of January 2, he won entrance to the home of the Comparini by using the name of Caponsacchi. The parents were instantly stabbed to death, and Pompilia was cut to pieces with twenty-two wounds. Leaving her for dead, Guido and his cut-throats fled, as the outcries of the victims had given the alarm. That night they travelled afoot nearly twenty miles, but were pursued by the police, and were arrested with the bloody arms still in their possession. Such was the crime, and the Old Yellow Book is the record of the legal battle over the assassins, which was fought through the criminal courts of Rome, presided over by Vice-governor Venturini. The prosecution and defence alike were conducted by officers of the court, two lawyers on each side, the Procurator and Advocate of the Poor for the defendants, and the Procurator and Advocate of the Fisc against them. As the fact of the crime was definitely ascertained, the legal battle turned entirely on the justification or condemnation of the motive of the crime. The defence maintained that the assassination had been for honour's sake, and the unwritten law, to which appeal is made in generation after generation, was urged at every point. That Guido had suffered unspeakable ignominy cannot be denied; that his wife had been untrue to him even in the perilous flight with Caponsacchi is unproved, as the courts had evidently held in the Process of Flight. The prosecution, on the other hand, reiterated in every argument their reading of Guido's motive—greed. Greed had led him to marry Pompilia. Greed had occasioned his disgraceful wranglings with the Comparini. Defeated greed had made him torture his wife into scandalous flight, and calculating greed had led him to commit the murder at a time and in a manner to save the whole property to himself. Still further, said the prosecution, not only was his motive bad, but the crime was committed in a way which involved him in half a dozen accessory crimes, each of them capital. Such is the drift of the argument, which is fortified at every point by citation of precedent from the legal procedure of all ages. Altogether it is a highly skilled legal battle according to the technical limitations of the game, while the simple appeals to equity and to common human feeling hardly enter at all. The trial proceeded in two stages. The earlier one, during the latter half of January, was opened by Arcangeli (pamphlet 1), supported by Advocate Spreti (pamphlet 2). The prosecution is opened by Procurator Gambi (pamphlet 5), supported by Advocate Bottini (pamphlet 6). Arcangeli and Bottini make further argument in pamphlets 3 and 14. Two pamphlets of evidence were assembled and printed—for the defence, pamphlet 7; and for the prosecution, pamphlet 4. The latter part of this stage of the case is much occupied with arguing whether Guido and his companions may be tortured to get a fuller statement from them. In spite of the efforts of Guido's attorneys, the torture was evidently decreed, and fuller evidence was forced from the defendants, though one of them bore the torture till he fainted twice. The trial then enters on its second stage, in which, after some preliminary skirmishing about the legality of the torture and the status of the evidence given under this torture, the lawyers settle to their most masterly work. Arcangeli and Spreti develop an elaborate and skilled defence (pamphlets 8 and 9), and are answered by Bottini's masterpiece for the prosecution (pamphlet 13). Spreti closes the defence in pamphlet 16. Pamphlet 11 presents some additional matters of evidence. All these arguments and summaries of evidence were printed by the official papal press (see the imprint Typis Rev. Cam. Apost.), probably overnight, between the sessions of the court, as typewritten briefs would be prepared to-day. Few copies were printed, and these were solely for the judges and attorneys in the case. There would be no popular circulation of them in Rome at large. The particular copies included in the Old Yellow Book were probably gathered by one of these attorneys, and sent to Signor Cencini in Florence (letter iii. p. 238). We need but look to our own age to rest assured that outside of the court room all Rome was athrill with interest in this murder case, and was speculating on the fate of the accused. The attorneys for the defence, in the midst of the trial, made a sudden appeal to this public interest and sought the support of public sentiment by means of an anonymous pamphlet (pamphlet 10) written in Italian and printed without an imprint or signature, but evidently addressed to the bar of public opinion. It seems to have been written by Guido's lawyers, or their lackeys, for it repeats the various points already made in the arguments. Whether it was distributed free or was sold for a small price, it must have been seized and devoured by all Rome as are the journalistic reports of notorious criminal trials to-day. We can imagine the alarm of the prosecution when they perceived this flank movement against them. With all possible haste they prepared their reply, also in Italian and without signature or imprint, and probably within a day or two had issued this response (pamphlet 15), which meets the other pamphlet at every point, and bitterly arraigns the greed of Guido. These two pamphlets evidently suggested to Browning his "Half-Rome" and "Other Half-Rome." There must have been other popular exploitations of this crime. Two manuscript Italian narratives of it have been discovered. The first of these (pp. 259-266) was found in London and sent to Browning, who used it extensively in writing his poem. The second (pp. 269-281) was discovered a few years ago in Rome. Other accounts may yet come to light. The trial of Guido and his companions was carried forward to a prompt judgment, and on February 18 they were pronounced guilty and were condemned to death. A technical staying of sentence for four days was granted by reason of Guido's clerical privilege, but execution followed on February 22. The Old Yellow Book includes three original letters (pp. 237-8) written from Rome immediately after the execution to Signor Cencini at Florence. Yet the case was not quite at an end. A number of civil suits were promptly instituted by various claimants for the property of the Comparini. The Franceschini still pushed their claim in spite of the infamy they had suffered for that property. Pompilia's executor, Tighetti, claimed all in trust for the child, Gaetano. Then the refuge of the Convertites, under their legal right to the property of all women of evil life who died in Rome, accused the memory of Pompilia and claimed her property. The case seemed to be entering on one of those interminable struggles in court. The Procurator Lamparelli (pamphlet 17) goes back to analyse again the motives in the whole case and to justify Pompilia's innocence. The remainder of this trial is lost to us save for the final Definitive Sentence of the courts (pamphlet 18), issued in September 1698, which clears the memory of Pompilia entirely and for ever in the eyes of the law. This was the record which fell into Browning's hands. The poet tells of his immediate interest in the tragedy, partly due to that common human interest in great crimes, partly to the casuistic presentation of motive throughout the Book, partly to his championing the rights of Pompilia, dishonoured and slain not merely by a brutally selfish husband, but by a corrupt social condition around her. After some delay, Browning saw his way to embody in art the story which had interested him so deeply. The plan came to him, according to W. M. Rossetti, one day while he was walking at Biarritz, and from 1862 till the publication in 1868-9, he was working continuously on The Ring and the Book. He had mastered every detail of the Yellow Book by continuous re-readings, and in his art he was scrupulously, but never laboriously, accurate to the facts before him. In the poem he names thirty-three persons exactly as he found them in his original. Place names are adopted with the same accuracy. The specific dates recorded in the Book are followed at all points, save in the significant change of the date of Caponsacchi's rescue of Pompilia from April 29 to 23, St. George's Day. The incidents of the tragedy, even when compromising to Pompilia, whose cause he championed, are used without repression or falsification. And perhaps most remarkable of all, the poet had mastered all the technical paraphernalia and phraseology of the lawyers, and uses these with minute care, not entirely devoid of misunderstanding and error. In the Book he found all the points of law, all the precedents and authorities, and almost all of the Latin phrases and sentences found in the monologues of the lawyers of the poem. A remarkable instance of this is seen in his word for word adaptation of the long peroration of Arcangeli (pamphlet 8) in the close of the monologue of the Arcangeli of the poem. And the actual letter of Arcangeli (p. 235) is reproduced verbatim in the poem, book xii. ll. 239-88. Altogether the poet affords one of the most remarkable illustrations of literal and detailed accuracy in the use of the raw material of art. Yet here, as in all cases of true art, the greatness of the final product lies not so much in the material that fell to the artist as in the personal resource and power within himself which was able to use the material. Browning found suggestion for a suffering saint in Fra Celestino's report of Pompilia's death-bed (pp. 57, 58), but the Pompilia of the poem embodies the poet's deepest insight into womanhood with all its spiritual relationships, in the love of man, the passion of maternity, and devotion to God. Browning ascertained in the Book that Caponsacchi was a resolute man, who had involved himself in many perils for the sake of Pompilia, but from his own personal resource of manly devotion, of chivalrous daring, of passionate indignation at wrong, of spiritual tenderness and reverence, he created a Caponsacchi. In the Book he found every turn of the cunning, of the greed, of the brutality of Guido and his family, but from his own deep realisation of the power of evil in the world, and of the black depravity of the lowest forms of humanity, he created his Franceschini. Thus at every point, founding himself on the fact of the Book, he is able to set forth this tragedy to the world as it grew in his own imagination while searching his own heart and the hearts of others through many years. And the chance-found Old Yellow Book at last occasioned the most profound utterance Robert Browning was to give to the world in all that concerns the human heart and its motives as they play the drama of the world before the eye of the Almighty. "Do you see this square old yellow book ... pure, crude fact. Give it me back! The thing's restorative A Setting-forth The first by beheading, the other four by the gallows. ROMAN MURDER-CASE. In which it is disputed whether and when a Husband CONTENTS Sentence of the Criminal Court of Florence in the criminal case Argument in defence of the said Franceschini of the Honourable Signor Giacinto Arcangeli, Procurator of the Poor in Rome, made before the congregation of Monsignor the Governor Argument of the Honourable Signor Advocate Desiderio Spreti, Advocate of the Poor, in defence of said Franceschini and his associates Argument of the abovesaid Signor Arcangeli in defence of Biagio Agostinelli and his companions in crime Summary of fact made in behalf of the Fisc Argument of Signor Francesco Gambi, Procurator of the Fisc and of the Reverend Apostolic Chamber, against the abovesaid Franceschini and his companions in crime Argument of Signor Giovanni Battista Bottini, Advocate of the Fisc and of the Reverend Apostolic Chamber, against the abovesaid Summary of fact in behalf of Franceschini and his associates in crime Another Argument of the abovesaid Signor Arcangeli in favour and defence of the abovesaid Another Argument of Signor Advocate Spreti in favour of the above An Account of the facts and grounds, made and given by an Anonymous Author Another Summary made on behalf of the Fisc Argument of Signor Gambi, Procurator of the Fisc, against the abovesaid Franceschini and his companions Another Argument of the Signor Giovanni Battista Bottini, Advocate of the Fisc Another Argument of the abovesaid against the said Defendants A Response of the abovesaid account of fact as given by the Anonymous Author Argument of Signor Advocate Spreti in favour of Franceschini, etc. Letter written by the Honourable Signor Giacinto Arcangeli, Procurator of the Poor, to Monsignore Francesco Cencini in Florence, in which he tells him that the sentence of death had been executed in Rome against the guilty on February 22, 1698—that is, that Franceschini had been beheaded, and the other four hanged Two other Letters, one written by Signor Gaspero del Torto and the other by Signor Carlo Antonio Ugolinucci to the aforesaid Monsignore Francesco Cencini Argument of Signor Antonio Lamparelli, Procurator of the Poor in the said case The Sentence of Signor Marco Antonio Venturini, Judge in Criminal causes, which declares that the said adultery was not proved, and which restores to her original fame the memory of Francesca Pompilia Comparini, wife of Guido Franceschini The Secondary Source of "The Ring and the Book" Trial and Death of Franceschini and his Companions Notes and Comment Quotation But for me the Muse in her strength prepares her mightiest arrow. Facsimile Page Facsimile Page from the Original "Old Yellow Book." SENTENCE OF THE CRIMINAL COURT OF FLORENCE February 15, 1697 A.D. Attestation by me undersigned how, in the order of the affairs of the Governors, which are set before His Serene Highness, in the Chancery of the Illustrious Signori Auditori of the Criminal Court of Florence, there appears among other affairs of business, under decision 3549, the following of tenor as written below, that is Arezzo against 1. Gregorio, son of Francesco Guillichini, not described. 2. Francesca Pompilia Comparini, wife of Guido Franceschini, and 3. Francesco, son of Giovanni Borsi called Venerino, servant of Agosto, Host at the "Canale," because the second Accused, against her honour and conjugal faith, had given herself up to dishonest amours with the Canon Giuseppe Caponsacchi and with the first Accused, who instructed her, as you may well believe, to part from the aforesaid City of Arezzo, the evening of April 28, 1697. And, that they might not be discovered and hindered, the second Accused put a sleeping-potion and opium in her husband's wine at dinner. At about one o'clock the same night, the said Canon Caponsacchi and the first Accused conducted the aforesaid second Accused away from the home of her husband. As the gates of the city were closed, they climbed the wall on the hill of the Torrione; and having reached the "Horse" Inn, outside of the gate San Clemente, they were there awaited by the third Accused with a two-horse carriage. When Canon Caponsacchi and the second Accused had entered into the said carriage, the word was given by him, the aforesaid first Accused, and they set out then upon the way toward Perugia, the said third Accused driving the carriage as far as Camoscia. And while they were travelling along the road they kissed one another before the very face of the third Accused. Still further, the second Accused, along with the first Accused and Canon Caponsacchi, carried away furtively from the house of the said Guido, her husband, from a chest locked with a key, which she took from her husband's trousers [the following articles]: About 200 scudi in gold and silver coin; an oriental pearl necklace worth about 200 scudi; a pair of diamond pendants worth 84 scudi; a solitaire diamond ring worth 40 scudi; two pearls with their pins, to be used as pendants, 6 scudi; a gold ring with turquoise setting worth 2 scudi; a gold ring set with ruby worth 36 scudi; an amber necklace worth 5 scudi; a necklace of garnets alternated with little beads of fine brass worth 6 scudi; a pair of earrings in the shape of a little ship of gold with a pearl worth 16 scudi; two necklaces of various common stones worth 4 scudi; a coronet of carnelians with five settings and with a cameo in silver filigree worth 12 scudi; a damask suit with its mantle, and a petticoat of a poppy colour, embroidered with various flowers, worth 40 scudi; a light-blue petticoat, flowered with white, worth 8 scudi; two vests to place under the mantle worth 2 scudi; a pair of sleeves of point lace worth 20 scudi; another pair of sleeves fringed with lace worth 5 scudi; a collar worth 4 scudi; a scarf of black taffeta for the shoulder with a bow of ribbon worth 8 scudi; an embroidered silk cuff worth 14 scudi; two aprons of key-bit pattern with their lace worth 12 scudi; a pair of scarlet silk boots worth 14 scudi; a pair of woollen stockings, a pair of white linen hose, and a pair of light-blue hose, worth 5 scudi; a snuff-coloured worsted bodice with petticoat, ornamented with white and red pawns, worth 3 scudi; a blue and white coat of yarn and linen, adorned with scarlet and other coloured ornaments, worth 10 scudi; a worsted petticoat of light-blue and orange colour, striped lengthwise, with yellow lines and with various colours at the feet, worth 14 scudi; an embroidered petticoat worth 9 scudi; a silk cuff worth 5 scudi; four linen smocks for women worth 14 scudi; a pair of shoes with silver buckles worth 8 scudi; many tassels and tapes of various sorts worth 14 scudi; six fine napkins worth 7 scudi; a collar of crumpled silk worth 7 scudi; two pairs of gloves of a value of 4 scudi; four handkerchiefs worth 5 scudi; a little silver snuff-box with the arms of the Franceschini house upon it worth 16 scudi; a coat of her husband Guido, rubbed and rent by the lock of a chest where he kept part of the aforesaid clothing. And they had converted the whole to their own uses against the will of the same, the first Accused and Canon Caponsacchi having scaled the walls of the city in company with the second Accused, as soon as she had committed adultery with them. And the said third Accused had given opportunity for flight to the said second Accused along with the Canon, in the manner told. Therefore the Commissioner of Arezzo was of opinion to condemn arbitrarily the first Accused to five years' confinement at Portoferrio with the penalty of the galleys for the same length of time, not counting the reservation of 15 days to appear and clear himself; to condemn the second Accused to the penalty of the Stinche for life and to the restitution of what was taken away, with the abovesaid reservation; and that the third Accused be not prosecuted further and be liberated from prison. But the Criminal Court was of opinion that the first Accused should be condemned to the galleys during the pleasure of His Serene Highness, with the said reservation. As to the second Accused, who was imprisoned here in Rome, in a sacred place, it suspended the execution. And for the third, who had done no voluntary evil, it gave up further inquiry. Again proposed in the said business before His Serene and Blessed Highness with the signature of December 24, 1697. The opinion of the Court stands approved. I, Joseph Vesinius, J. V. D., an official By the Most Illustrious and Most ROMAN MURDER-CASE On Behalf of Count Guido Franceschini, Memorial of fact and law. At Rome, in the type of the Reverend Apostolic Chamber, [Pamphlet 1.] Most Illustrious and Most Reverend Lord Governor: Count Guido Franceschini, born of a noble race, had married, under ill omen, Francesca Pompilia, whom Pietro and Violante had asserted (even to one occupying a very high office) to be their own daughter. After a little while, she was taken to Arezzo, the country of her husband, along with her foster-parents, and was restrained from leading her life with utter freedom. Yet she has made pretence that she was hated on the pretext of sterility, as is clearly shown in her deposition during her prosecution for flight from her husband's home. Both she and her parents took it ill that they were denied their old free life, and they urged their daughter to make complaint before the Most Reverend Bishop, saying that she had been offered poison by her brother-in-law. At the departure of this couple, when they were about to return to the City, they most basely instigated her—yes, and even commanded her by her duty to obey them—that she should kill her husband, poison her brother-in-law and mother-in-law, and burn the house; and then with the aid of a lover to be chosen thereafter, she should put into effect her long-planned flight back to the City. (But all this should be done after their departure, lest they might seem to have given her evil counsel.) [Such facts] may be clearly deduced from one of the letters presented as evidence in the same prosecution. When these pseudo-parents had returned home, they declared that Francesca was not born of themselves, but had been conceived of an unknown father by a vile strumpet. They then entered suit before Judge Tomati for the nullification of the dowry contract. Day by day the love of Pompilia for her husband kept decreasing, while her affection for a certain priest was on the increase. This affair went so far that on an appointed night, while her husband was oppressed with sleep (and I wish I could say that she had no hand in this, and had not procured drugs from outside), she began her flight from her husband's house toward Rome, nor was this flight without theft of money and the company of her lover. Her most wretched husband pursued them, and she was imprisoned not far from the City. Then, when after a short time they were brought to trial, the lover was banished to Civita Vecchia for adultery, and she herself was placed in safe keeping. But owing to her pregnancy she returned to the home of Pietro and Violante, where she gave birth to a child (and I wish I could say that it had not been conceived in adultery). This increased the shame and indignation of the husband, and the wrath, which had long been stirred, grew strong, because his honour among upright men was lost and he was pointed out with the finger of scorn, especially in his own country, where a good reputation is much cherished by men who are well-born. Therefore his anger so impelled the luckless man to fury, and his indignation so drove him to desperation, that he preferred to die rather than to live ignominiously among honourable men. With gloomy mind, he rushed headlong to the City, accompanied by four companions. On the second night of the current month of January, under the show of giving a letter from the banished lover, he pretended to approach the home of the Comparini. When at the name of Caponsacchi the door was opened, he cut the throats of Violante and Pietro, and stabbed Francesca with so many wounds that she died after a few days. While this desperation continued, his dull and unforeseeing mind suggested no way to find a place of safety. But accompanied by the same men, he set out for his own country along the public highway by the shortest route. Then, while he was resting upon a pallet in a certain tavern, he was arrested, together with his companions, by the pursuing officers. Great indeed is this crime, but very greatly to be pitied also, and most worthy of excuse. Even the most severe laws give indulgence and are very mild towards husbands who wipe out the stain of their infamy with the blood of their adulterous wives. [Citation of Lex Julia de Adulteriis, Lex Cornelia de Sicariis and the Gracchian law. Cf. Ring and Book, I. 2268.] This indeed was sanctioned in the laws of the Athenians and of Solon (that is, of the wisest of legislators), and what is more, even in the rude age of Romulus, law 15, where we read: "A man and his relatives may kill as they wish a wife convicted of adultery." [Citations; and likewise in the Laws of the Twelve Tables, see Aulus Gellius, etc.] I hold, to begin with, that there can be no doubt of the adultery of the wife [for several reasons]. [First], her flight together with her lover during a long-continued journey. [Citations.] [Second], the love letters sent by each party; these cannot be read in the prosecution for flight without nausea. [Citations.] [Third], the clandestine entry of the lover into her home at a suspicious time. [Citations.] [Fourth], the kisses given during the flight (p. 100) according to the following sentiment: "Sight, conversation, touch, afterwards kisses, and then the deed [adultery]." [Citations.] [Fifth], their sleeping in the same room at the inn. [Citations.] [Sixth], the sentence of the judge, who condemned the lover for his criminal knowledge of her, which made this adultery notorious. [Citations.] Furthermore, we are not here arguing to prove adultery for the purpose of demanding punishment [upon the adulteress], but to excuse her slayer, and for his defence; in this case, even lighter proofs would be abundant, as MatthÆus advises. [Citations.] These matters being held as proved, the opinion of certain authorities who assert that a husband is not excusable from the ordinary penalty, who kills his adulterous wife after an interval, does not stand in our way. For the aforesaid laws speak of the wife who had been found in her guilt and has been killed incontinently. Hence such indulgence ought not to be extended to wife-murder committed after an interval, because the reins should not be relaxed for men to sin and to declare the law for themselves. [Citations.] Furthermore, Farinacci does not affirm this conclusion, but shows that he is very much in doubt, where he says: "The matter is very doubtful with me, because injured honour and just anger—both of which always oppress the heart—are very strong grounds for the mitigation of the penalty." MatthÆus well weighs these words on our very point. And both Farinacci and Rainaldi conclude that the penalty can be moderated at the judgment of the Prince. I humbly pray that this be noted. The aforesaid laws, which seem to require discovery in the very act of sin, as some have thought, do not decide in that way merely for the purpose of excusing a husband moved to slaughter by a sudden impulse of wrath and by unadvised heat. But they so decide lest on any suspicion of adultery whatsoever, oftentimes entirely without foundation, men should rush upon and kill their wives, who are frequently innocent. Hence the "discovery in the very act of crime," which is required by law, is not to be interpreted, nor to be understood, as discovery in the very act of licence, but is to be referred to the proof of the adultery, lest on trifling suspicion a wife should be given over to death. But when the adultery is not at all doubtful, there is no distinction between one killing immediately and killing after an interval, so far as the matter of escaping extreme punishment is concerned. [Citations.] For whenever a wife is convicted of adultery, or is a manifest adulteress, she is always said to be "taken in crime." [Citations.] And in very truth the reasons adduced by those holding the contrary opinion are entirely too weak. For murder committed for honour's sake is always said to be done immediately, whensoever it may be committed. Because injury to the honour always remains fixed before one's eyes, and by goading one with busy and incessant stings it urges and impels him to its reparation. [Citations.] Such relaxation of the reins to husbands, for taking into their own hands the law, would indeed be too great if the law of divorce were still valid. For in that case husbands would not be permitted to make such reparation of their honour. For another way would be satisfactorily provided for them, namely, in their right to dismiss and repudiate the polluted wife. In this way they could put far from themselves the cause of their disgrace, yes, and the very ignominy itself. But when by the divine favour our Gentile blindness was removed, and matrimony was acknowledged to be perpetual and indissoluble, those were indeed most worthy of pity who, when all other way of recovering their honour was closed to them, washed away their stains in the blood of their adulterous wives. Petrus Erodus [Citation], after he has discussed a matter of this kind according to the usual practice of Roman Law, adds in the end: "For as all hope of a second marriage is gone so long as the adulteress still lives, we judge that such very just anger is allayed with more difficulty, unless it be by the flight of time;" and therefore such a case, when not terminated by divorce, is usually terminated by murder. For as Augustine says, "what is not permitted, becomes as if it were permitted; that is, let the adulteress be killed, that the husband may be released." I acknowledge that it is laudable to restrain the audacity of husbands, lest they declare the law for themselves in their own cause; since they may be mistaken. But it would be more laudable indeed to restrain the lust of wives; for if they would act modestly and would live honourably they would not force their husbands to this kind of crime, which I may almost call necessary. Nor can we deny that by the ignominy brought upon them by the adultery they are exasperated and are driven insane, and a most just sense of anger is excited in their hearts. For this grievance surpasses all others beyond comparison, and hence is worthy of the greater pity, according to the words of the satirist [Juv. X. 314]: "This wrath exacts more than any law concedes to wrath." Papinianus also well acknowledges this [Citation], where we read: "Since it is very difficult to restrain just anger." For these reasons, authorities hold that a just grievance should render the penalty more lenient even in premediated crimes; because the sense of "just grievance does not easily quiet down, or lose its strength with the flight of time, but the heart is continually pierced by infamy, and the longer the insult endures, the longer endures the infamy, yea, and it is increased." [Citations.] And this drives one on the more intensely, because with greater impunity, as I may say, wives pollute their own matrimony and destroy the honour of their entire household. In ancient times, while the Lex Julia was in force, wives who polluted their marriage-bed underwent the death penalty. [Citations.] Likewise it was so ordained in the Holy Scriptures; for adulterous wives were stoned to death, Gen. 38; Lev. 20, 10; Deut. 23, 22; Ez. 16. The solace drawn from the public vengeance quieted the anger and destroyed the infamy. Then the husband, who was restored to his original freedom, could take a new and honest wife and raise his sons in honour. But now, in our evil days, there is a deplorable frequency of crime everywhere, as the rigour of the Sacred Law has become obsolete. And since wives who live basely are dealt with very mildly, the husband's condition would indeed be most unfortunate if either he must live perpetually in infamy, or must expiate her destruction, when she is slain, by the death penalty, as MatthÆus well considers. [Citation.] Therefore, when it is claimed that the husband shall escape entirely unpunished, it is necessary that the wife be killed in the very act of discovered sin. But when the question is as to whether or not a husband may be punished more mildly than usual when driven to wife-murder for honour's sake, it makes no difference whether he kill her immediately or after an interval. [Citation.] Nor does this opinion lack foundation in the very Civil Law of the Romans, for Martian [Citation] asserts that a father who had killed his son while out hunting, because he had polluted his stepmother with adultery, was exiled. Nor had the father found him in the very act of crime, but slew him while out hunting, that is with a pretence of friendliness and by dissimulating his injury. Accordingly he was punished, but not with the usual penalty; for he had killed his son, not in his right as a father, but in the manner of a robber. Hence we can infer that not the killing, but the method of killing was punishable, as we may deduce from Bartolo. [Citations.] Still further, it is well worthy of consideration that one may kill an adversary with impunity, for the sake of his personal safety, but he must do so immediately and in the very act of aggression, and not after an interval. For the life of one slain may not be recovered by the slaying of the murderer. Accordingly, whatever violence may follow upon the first murder becomes vengeance, which is hateful and odious to the law; for the jurisdiction of the judge is insulted by depriving him of the power of publicly avenging murder. But if by the death of the slayer the one slain could be called back to life, I think there is no doubt that any one could kill the said slayer; for then such an act would not be revenge, but due defence, leading toward the recovery of the life that had been lost. But even when we are dealing with an offence and injury which does not affect the person of the one injured, it is likewise permitted that one who has been robbed may, even after an interval, kill the thief for the recovery of the stolen goods, provided every other way to recover them is precluded. Likewise, one offended in his reputation should be permitted at all times to kill the one injuring him; for such an act may be termed, not the avenging of an injury, but the re-establishing of wounded honour, which could be healed in no other way. [Citations.] Furthermore, as I have said, when one is discussing the subject of self-defence, he is dealing with an instantaneous act; hence the anger conceived therefrom ought to quiet down after a while, according to the warning of St. Paul, Eph. 4: "Let not the sun go down upon your wrath." But when we are dealing with an offence that injures the honour, this is not merely a momentary matter, but is protracted, and indeed with the lapse of time becomes the greater, as the injured one is vilified the more. Therefore, whensoever the murder follows it is always said to have been committed immediately. [Citation.] Relying upon these and other reasons, most authorities affirm that a husband killing his adulterous wife after an interval, but not found in licentiousness, is to be punished indeed, but more mildly and with a penalty out of the ordinary. [Citations.] Caball testifies that this has been the practice in many of the world's tribunals. Calvinus gives other cases so decided. [Citation.] And Cyriacus, who speaks in worse circumstances, adduces numerous other cases, and the authorities recently cited offer many more. This lenient opinion is the more readily to be accepted because, as I claim, the deed about which we are arguing does not also carry with it (as the Fisc holds) attendant circumstances demanding such a rigorous penalty. [First] the taking of helpers to be present at the murders [is not such a circumstance]; because he could lawfully use the help of companions to provide more safely for his own honour by the death of his wife. [Citations.] [Secondly] the crime is not raised to a higher class because he led with him helpers at a price agreed upon; for what is more, and is far more to be wondered at, a husband can lawfully demand of others the murder of an adulterous wife, even by means of money, as the following indisputably affirm. [Citations.] Likewise it does not at all disturb [our line of argument] that Count Guido might have killed his wife and the adulterer when they were caught in the very act of flight at the tavern of Castelnuovo, but that he preferred rather to have them imprisoned, seeking their punishment by law, and not with his own hand. We deny that he could have safely killed both of them, inasmuch as he was alone, nor could he attack them, except at the risk of his own life. Because the lover was of powerful strength, not at all timid, and all too prompt for resisting, since, in the word of one of the witnesses in the prosecution for flight, he was called Scapezzacollo [cut-throat]. Nor is it credible that, unless he had been fearless and full of spirit, he would have ventured upon so great a crime, and would have dared to participate in her flight, and to accompany the fugitive wife from the home of her husband. And this fact is more clearly deducible from one of his letters, in which, after urging Francesca to mingle an opiate in the wine-flasks for the purpose of putting her husband and the servants to sleep, he adds that if they find it out she should open the door; for he would either suffer death with her or would snatch her from their hands. These things indicate both courage and audacity. And though the wife is a woman, that is a timid and unwarlike creature, nevertheless Francesca was all too impudent and audacious, whether because of her hatred for her husband or on account of her anger at the imprisonment of her lover. For she drew a sword upon her husband in the very presence of the officers who were about to arrest her. And to prevent her from going further, one of the bystanders had to snatch it from her hands. Therefore, before their imprisonment, Guido could not put into effect what he had had in mind and what he could lawfully do, because he was alone and his strength was not sufficient. Then when she had been taken to prison, and afterwards was placed in safe keeping, it was impossible for him to vindicate his honour. But when at last she had left the monastery and had gone back to the home of Pietro and Violante, he took vengeance as soon as he could. Therefore we hold that he killed her in the very act, as it were, and immediately. In Sanfelicius [Citation], we read of a case where a husband, though he could have killed his wife immediately, did not do so, but craftily redeemed himself from his disgrace by slaying his wife as soon as possible. And Giurba also speaks of a case where the argument is concerning an injury that was not personal, but real, as was said above. Guido saw to her capture, and insisted that she be punished, lest she continue her adultery and viciousness, being powerless to do anything else, because his confusion of mind, his helpless fury, and his sense of shame led him unwisely into not taking the law into his own hands and recovering his lost honour. He indeed lodged complaint, but it was because he could not kill her. Nor would his ignominy have been wiped out nor his infamy have been destroyed by her imprisonment and punishment. But when, indeed, after her imprisonment he was still more shut out from noble company, his injury ever became the more acute, and it stimulated him the more strongly to regain his own reputation. But his bitterness of mind was increased especially at hearing that she had gone back to the home of Pietro and Violante, who had declared that she was not their daughter, but the child of a dishonest woman; hence his injury was increased by her staying in a home which he suspected, as is said a little further on. Accordingly the same cause kept urging him after her departure from the monastery, as had done so before her imprisonment and the appeals made by Count Guido. It makes very little difference that Francesca was staying in the home of Violante, which had been assigned to her as a safe prison with the consent of Guido's brother. For what would it amount to even if with the consent of Guido himself she had been taken from the monastery (yet we have no word of this matter in the trial). For Guido could make that pretence to gain the opportunity of killing her for the restoration of his honour. Nor would such dissimulation increase the crime, especially to the degree of the ordinary penalty, since it is certain that the husband may kill a wife stained with adultery without incurring such penalty. Yet a heavier or lighter penalty is inflicted, just as more or less treachery accompanies the murder, as MatthÆus testifies it was practised in the Senate of Matrinumsis. [Citation.] Nor is the attendant circumstance of the place assigned as a prison worthy of consideration, as if the custody of the Prince had been insulted; for one is not said to be in custody when he is merely detained in a place under security that he will not leave it. [Citation.] Furthermore, this objection falls utterly to the ground, because the circumstance of such a place does not increase the crime, whenever it is committed by one having provocation or for the repelling of an injury. And [the following authorities] hold thus in the more serious case of a crime committed in prison. [Citations.] Furthermore we do not believe, from what is said above, that the penalty can be increased because of the murder of Pietro and Violante, since the same injured honour, which impelled Count Guido to kill his wife, forced him to kill the said parents. And now may the ashes of the dead spare me if what I have urged above, and what I am about to say, may seem to disturb their peace! Neither the flame of hatred nor the impulse of anger (which are far from me) have suggested these charges; but the demands of the defence, which I have assumed without a penny of compensation, compel me to employ every means leading to the desired end. I have said, and I think not without due reason, that the Accused sprang forward to the death of both of them, moved simply by an immediate injury to his own reputation. For a few months after the marriage contracted with Francesca, whom they had professed to be their daughter, they had not blushed to declare that she was not such. Hence there is an inevitable dilemma. Either [first] she was in deed and truth their daughter, and then we must acknowledge that in afterward denying her parentage they had inflicted the greatest injury upon the honour and reputation of the Accused; for they had conceived strong hatred and malice against him. Hence they did not hesitate to disgrace their own daughter, in order that they might bring upon him the infamy of having married the daughter of a vile and dishonest woman. This is indeed a fact, that whoever knows Count Guido supposes he has married a girl, not merely of rank unequal to his own, but even of the basest condition, and this greatly injures the reputation of his entire household. Or else [second] Francesca was indeed conceived of an unknown father and born of a dishonest harlot. And it cannot be denied, that in that case he suffered even greater injury, which branded him with a mark of infamy; both because of her birth and from the fact that daughters are usually not unlike their mothers. Cephalus [Citations], where we read: "From such mingling with harlots it is to be supposed that the people become degenerate, ignoble, and burning with lust." And would that experience had not taught us this fact! The unfortunate man believed he was marrying the daughter of Pietro and Violante, born legitimately, and yet by the contrivance and trickery of this couple he married a girl of basest stock, conceived illegitimately by a dishonourable mother. From this fact alone the quality of those parents can be inferred, who, for the sake of deceiving those lawfully entitled to the trust-moneys, had made most vile pretence of the birth of a child, entirely unmindful that they laid themselves liable to capital punishment. [Citations.] It will not, therefore, be difficult to believe what Francesca reveals in her letter to her brother-in-law, that the abovesaid couple, in spite of the fact that she was well treated, kept instigating her daily to poison her husband, her brother-in-law, and her mother-in-law, and to burn the home. And though these crimes are very base, they gave her still worse counsel, even by her obligation to obey them; namely, that after their departure from Arezzo, she should allure a lover, and leaving her husband's home in his company, should return to the City. In her obedience to their commands, this daughter seemed indeed all too prompt. Who then will deny that such reckless daring, wherefrom a notorious disgrace was inflicted upon the entire household of the Accused, ought to be attributed to the base persuasion of the said couple? Nor was it difficult to persuade that girl to do what she was prone to by inborn instinct and by the example of her mother. It is not my duty to divine why that couple so anxiously desired the return of Francesca to their home. But I cannot persuade myself that they were moved by mere charity, namely, that she might escape ill-treatment. For Francesca, in the said letter, acknowledges that she is leading a quiet life, and that her husband and the servants are treating her very well, and that what she had laid before the Bishop had been the falsehood of the said couple. I know furthermore that if a husband have knowledge of the adultery of his wife and keep her in his home, he cannot escape the mark and penalty of a pimp. [Citations.] If, therefore, as the said couple declare, Francesca was not their daughter, why did they receive her so tenderly into their home after her adultery was plainly manifest? Why did they, as I may say, cherish her in their breasts, not merely up till the birth of her child, but even till death? And I wish I could say that her love affairs with the banished [priest] were not continued there! For at his mere name, after the knocking at the door, as soon as they heard that some one was about to give them a letter from the one in banishment, immediately the door was opened and Guido was given an entry for recovering his honour. If, indeed, the said couple had been displeased with the adultery of Francesca, they would, without doubt, have shuddered at the name of the adulterer, and would have cut off every way for mutual correspondence. Therefore it is most clearly evident that the cause of wounded honour in the Accused had continued, and indeed new causes of the same kind had arisen, all of which tended toward blackening his reputation. Nor does it make any difference that the Accused may have had in mind several causes of hatred toward both Francesca and the Comparini. For if these are well weighed, they all coincide with, and are reduced to, the original cause, namely, that of wounded honour. However that may be, when causes are compatible with one another, the act that follows should always be attributed to the stronger and more urgent and more acute. [Citations.] And on the point that when several causes concur, murder is to be referred and attributed to injured honour, and not to the others: [Citations.] Therefore I think that any wise man ought to acknowledge that Guido had most just cause for killing the said couple, and that very just anger had been excited against them. This was increased day by day by the perfectly human consideration that he would not have married her unless he had been deceived by that very tricky couple. And to what is said above we may add that either the child born [of Pompilia] was conceived in adultery, as the Accused could well believe, since he was ignorant of the fact that his wife was pregnant during her flight; and then we cannot deny that new offence was given to his honour, or the old one was renewed, by the said birth; or the child was born of his legitimate father; and who will deny that by the hiding of the child, Guido ought to be angered anew over the loss of his son? And the great indignation conceived from either cause (the force of which is very powerful) is so deserving of excuse that very many atrocious crimes committed upon the impulse of just anger have gone entirely unpunished. [Citations.] The following text [Citation] agrees with this, "Nevertheless, because night and just anger ameliorate his deed, he can be sent into exile." [Citations.] And not infrequently, in the contingency of such a deed, men have escaped entirely unpunished, who, when moved by just anger, have laid hands even upon the innocent. For a certain Smyrnean woman had killed her husband and her son conceived of him, because her husband had slain her own son by her first marriage. When she was accused before Dolabella, as Proconsul, he was unwilling either to liberate one who was stained with two murders, or to condemn her, as she had been moved by just anger. He therefore sent her to the Areopagus, that assembly of very wise judges. There, when the cause had been made known, response was given that she and her accuser should come back after a hundred years. And so the defendant in a double murder, although she had also killed one who was innocent, escaped entirely unpunished. [Citation.] Likewise, a wife who had given command for the murder of her husband because of just anger from his denial of her matrimonial dues was punished with a fine, and a temporary residence in a monastery, as Cyriacus testifies. [Citation.] Such pleas might indeed hold good whenever the accused had confessed the crime, or had been lawfully convicted, neither of which can be affirmed [in our case]. But much more are they to be admitted, since he confesses only that he gave order for striking his wife's face, or for mutilating it; and if those he commanded exceeded his order, he should not be held responsible for their excess. [Citations.] His fellows and companions give his name, and claim that he had a hand in the murders. And in spite of the fact that the Fisc claims they have hidden the truth in many respects, equity will not allow that certain matters be separated from their depositions and that these be accepted only in part; for if they are false in one matter, such are they to be considered in all. It would be more than enough to take away from those depositions all credence that, under torture in his presence, they did not purge that stain. [Citations.] It has very justly been permitted that in defence of this noble man, I should deduce these matters, as they say, with galloping pen. The scantiness of the time has not suffered me to bring together other grounds for my case; these could be gathered with little labour, and possibly not without utility. Yet I believe that all objections, which can be raised on the part of the Fisc, have been abundantly satisfied. Giacinto Arcangeli, Procurator of the Poor. |
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